The Only Kind
by 7.06andcounting
Summary: 'I knew that look. That look had been pulling me into trouble since kindergarten... ' When Sandy gets Evie a date with Steve Randle, things begin to get complicated. Because Sandy and Sylvia have a hidden agenda and Evie's getting caught up in the lies, at the same time as she's falling for the guy she thought she disliked. Set in the months leading up to the book.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders

A/N: Just lately, I've been tackling Steve and Evie at the end of their relationship, from his perspective. But then I got pulled into a time vortex and Evie wanted to tell it from the beginning...

* * *

I knew she was up to something as soon as I saw her. Never mind that she was a full hour early and she knew I didn't finish work until six on Fridays. No, it was the way she smiled, like she had a new secret. I knew that look. That look had been pulling me into trouble since kindergarten.

"What are you doing here?" I hissed.

"Can you take off early? I wanna get ready at your house." She grinned at me.

"You don't need me there for that, Ma'll be in." I pretended to rearrange some long stemmed roses that looked just fine they way they were already.

"You gotta get ready too."

"You think so?" I said, sarcastically, " Jeez, I was just gonna go straight from work."

She stuck her tongue out at me, then quick as a wink, she turned around, face all angelic and opened her big, blue eyes wide. My boss was coming out from the back room.

"Miss Marian?" Sandy wheedled, "is there any chance you could let Evelyn go a little early?"

Marian smiled. "Got a big night planned?"

Sandy shrugged coyly. "There's a dance. It's only at the school, but..." Her tone of voice implied a whole lot more.

"But you want to get all prettified." Marian chuckled. "Got dates lined up?"

"No," I said at the same time as Sandy giggled. "Maybe." I looked at her in surprise. What had she done now?

"Aw, go on." Marian made a shooing gesture at me. "But I wanna hear all about it in the morning! I need some excitement in my old age." I laughed. Marian wasn't even thirty five and she was on at least her third husband, that I knew of. I thanked her and then Sandy and I ran for the bus stop.

I called hello as we went in the back door of my house and I grabbed a couple of Cokes from the fridge. Sandy picked up the glasses. We weren't above drinking from the bottle, but it's kind of hard to get the vodka down the neck of those bottles without spilling it. Sometimes the best part of going out is the getting ready.

"That you, Evie?" Ma yelled back. Whoever the hell else she thought it could be, I knew she wouldn't get up from the couch. Glory, Tim Shepard and his whole gang could romp through the house before she'd miss a minute of one of her soap operas.

Sandy had been enjoying her secret all the way on the bus and I'd long ago given up asking her anything when she was in that sort of mood. If she didn't want to tell, she wouldn't. I sometimes thought it was a shame I didn't have any real big secrets in my life, because she was a good friend to trust with stuff you wanted kept private.

She started looking at the clock a lot as we got dressed. I had a new eyeliner I was trying out, so I was concentrating on getting a straight line. After she checked the window for the second time, I turned around from the mirror and looked at her hard. She relented, finally.

"I got us a ride."

"To the dance? Great." I was impressed, but also knew enough to be suspicious. "Who with?" I stood up and let her look me over, to get approval of my outfit and make up.

"You look perfect. You're gonna blow his mind."

"_Who?_" A ride was one thing, but this was sounding like something a bit more serious. "What have you done?"

The sound of a car pulling up outside made her lean over and pull the blind aside again. She laughed. "Surprise!"

"Here? You got someone to pick us up _here_?" I knelt on the bed next to her to look out the tiny window. I got the attic space, but at least I don't have to share with my square of a sister.

"Well, they couldn't come to my house, could they?" Fair enough, her stepdad was a bona fide psycho, whereas my mom probably wouldn't even notice.

I think my mouth dropped open when I saw him get out of the car. He didn't come up to the house, just leaned on the car, looking up in our direction. Sandy squeaked with excitement and let the blind fall. I stared at her.

"I know." She grinned at me, enjoying my reaction. "Fuckin' far out, ain't it? Like, beyond far out!"

"You didn't? How did you? When did you?" I wasn't making much sense, I knew.

"I been goin' over to the DX after school."

"You and half of Tulsa."

"Well, half of Tulsa can kiss my ass, because he asked _me_ to the dance!" She straightened out her mini skirt in front of the mirror and headed out the door.

I was absorbing this news as we went down the stairs.

You ever play that game, _what would I do if a million dollars landed on my doorstep? _Like, make shopping lists of houses and clothes and jewelry and shit? But just for kicks, you know it won't ever really happen. At my school, the variation was, _what would I do if Sodapop Curtis landed on my doorstep?_ At least the clean version was. The walls in the girls' bathroom had a whole other set of suggestions as to where he could land.

Guess Sandy hadn't given up playing.

As we went past the living room, I yelled, "Bye, Ma." She probably heard. I grabbed Sandy's arm to stop her hurtling out the front door. "Wait a second? That _his_ car?" I wasn't sure that Sodapop had a car of his own.

Sandy smiled at me. "Nah, they come as a pair, don't they? You'll like him..." She was gone, practically skipping down the path. And I knew who she'd set me up with. _Shit_.

As I walked slowly down to the sidewalk, Sandy was closing in on Sodapop, like a cat when it greets you by twining up against you. Sometimes they trip you up that way, cats. She leaned against him and he slid his arms around her. They spoke so quietly I didn't catch what they said, but he smiled, as if he liked what he heard. They moved as I reached them and he opened the doors, front and back.

"You know Evie, don'tcha?" Sandy asked, climbing into the back of the car.

"Sure." Sodapop smiled easily. "Hey, Evie." _Liar_, I thought, as he jumped in after Sandy, leaving the front seat for me. No way he knew who I was.

I resigned myself to getting in the front seat. It was cleaner than I'd anticipated, which was a pleasant surprise, given the beat up state of the car.

"Steve, you remember Evie?" Sodapop prompted, his arm around Sandy in the back seat.

"Yup." Steve Randle hit the gas hard and we roared away from my house.

"Bullshit," I muttered to myself. Neither of these guys had known I existed at school. Steve cracked a half smile.

"Math, Mr Ferguson, second period, Wednesdays. You used to sit by the window in the back row," he said, without looking at me, as he took a right turn, real fast. _Well, what d'ya know?_

"I needed the fresh air, what with Ferguson's bad breath n' all," I said. He snorted. "This your car?" I asked, for something to say.

He shrugged."Fixin' it up for the boss, he gives me get a cut when he sells 'em on."

"An' you get to drive 'em in the meantime...?"

He smiled to himself, said nothing. I figured using the cars on a weekend was maybe _not_ part of the deal with his boss. Sandy giggled in the back. I saw Steve's eyes flick to the rear view mirror and he shook his head the tiniest fraction. I wondered how he liked being Sodapop Curtis's wingman.

The parking lot was already pretty full when we got to the school. There was an awkward moment when Steve and Sandy got out their tickets. Since neither Soda nor I went to school anymore, we were officially their guests. Steve reached back to hand his spare ticket to Soda at the same time that Sandy offered him hers. Soda took Sandy's.

I held my hand out as Steve turned back around. He tossed the ticket into my palm casually and turned to open his door, without a word.

"Thanks _so _much for inviting me. I feel _so _special," I said acidly and I got out of the car. Maybe I slammed the door a little harder than I needed to.

See, this is why my heart sank when I realised who Sandy'd set me up with. Oh, I knew she'd hit the jackpot. But Sodapop's gorgeous cloud came with a jet black lining. For some reason he was best friends with the worst tempered guy in the world. I'd seen Steve square up to guys in the middle of the hallway for nothing more than looking at him wrong.

Worse than that was the nagging feeling it gave me, that I was also the second prize in the double date lottery. It wasn't the first time she'd bagged a guy that she thought was the most, leaving me to entertain his friend, or visiting cousin, or whoever she persuaded him to drag along. I'd seen their faces fall when I came into view, the little shadow behind her shiny blonde halo. I'd even heard one whisper once, "How come you always get the stacked one?" He did not enjoy the rest of his evening, I can promise you that.

Steve was looking at me across the car, with a puzzled expression. "I didn't invite you," he said, in response to my sarcasm. "I didn't know I was coming with you."

"Right back at ya, bud," I snapped.

We fell in behind Soda and Sandy. I wondered if we were a little late on purpose, so she could make a bigger entrance with Soda. Didn't look like she was letting go of his arm any time soon.

The cop on the door looked bored. "No alcohol, boys," he said. It was hard to tell if he was asking them or warning them. He didn't pat them down or anything. He didn't ask to look in Sandy's or my purse either. Sucker.

"Talking of alcohol," Soda said over his shoulder, as we went in to the gym, the noise of the band muffling his words some. "Is Two-Bit gonna make it? He was supposed to bring Johnny if he did."

Steve shrugged. "I dunno. He said something about goin' out with Dally, but maybe that was later."

"Sylvia said she wasn't coming tonight." Sandy volunteered. "What with Dallas bein' banned from the school grounds."

"Good." Steve grunted. I looked at him in surprise. I thought Dallas was one of their friends. Then Soda grinned and said to Steve, "You still hacked with her, man?" And I realized Steve's comment had been about Sylvia.

I looked at Steve carefully, without him noticing. I didn't like Sylvia much. Since I dropped out, she and Sandy had really gotten tight at school. But she pulled Sandy into trouble, the way that Sandy pulled me, only more so. Sylvia was older than us, I don't mean because she should've been in the grade above, although that was true, but in the way that she acted. Nothing held her back. Most guys seemed to dig that, since it meant she laughed more, drank more and put out more than other girls. I wondered why Steve didn't like her.

I also wondered if she'd been Sandy's introduction to Sodapop, if maybe Sylvia wanted one of Dallas's friends dating one of hers. If she did, I was suspicious. I didn't trust her.

We'd wandered past the refreshment table and snagged paper cups of whatever was passing for punch. Making for the corner of the room, we huddled casually around Sandy as she doled out vodka from the bottle in her purse. Can't say it made the stuff taste any better, but that wasn't the point.

Suddenly Soda's head came up as the band started playing a new song. "I love this," he said, shoving his now empty cup at Steve and pulling Sandy away. "Let's dance!" She thrust her cup and purse at me and they were gone into the crowd.

Steve looked at me juggling two cups and purses, with that half smile I was starting to recognise. He drained his own cup, crumpled both his and Soda's together and lobbed the resulting ball in the vague direction of the refreshment table. Then he leaned back on the wall, his hands in his pockets.

I raised an eyebrow at this stunning display of gentlemanly behaviour. I poured what was left of Sandy's drink into my own, stacked her cup under mine, which freed up one hand to put both purses on the floor. Then I drank up, crumpled the two cups and, with a quick glance around, I threw them like he had. Only my aim was better and I hit the socy boy who was serving the punch, smack on the side of the head. And of course, I'd immediately turned around so I was facing the other way, leaving only Steve in the kid's line of vision.

Steve's face contorted, as he realised what I'd done and he was forced to lever himself off the wall into an aggressive pose, fronting down the kid's indignant squawk, glaring as if he was prepared to take the matter further. The kid backed down straight away when he realised who Steve was. As Steve turned back to me, I leaned back on the wall, mimicking his previous attitude, although I didn't have pockets in the front of my capris. Still, it was a pretty good impression.

For a second, I thought I might've overplayed it. Might have pissed him off. But he grinned slowly and said, "Nice aim."

"Thanks." I smiled back.

"So, you workin' somewhere this year?" He seemed genuinely interested. I liked that he asked it that way, not 'You dropped out, then?'

"The flower shop in the new shopping centre, down at the end of The Ribbon." I told him.

He nodded, like he knew where it was, which I'm sure he didn't. "I figured, since you ain't been down to the DX with Sandy after school."

The music had changed again and I looked around but there was no sign of Sandy.

"He likes dancin'." Steve followed my gaze. "Probably be gone a while yet."

_Oh_. He thought I was looking for Sodapop.

"I was hopin' to give Sandy her purse back, so I can dance myself," I explained. He pulled a face, like he was being asked to give blood.

"You wanna dance?" he said grudgingly.

"Glory, don't do me any favors! I can dance without you," I said defiantly.

To my surprise, he looked kind of sheepish. "I ain't real good, is all," he mumbled.

"Well, it don't matter, 'cause I ain't lookin' to leave these and lose what's in 'em." I shrugged. Steve looked around and motioned for me to pick up the purses and follow him.

We approached the seats at the edge of the gym and he went up to one of the chaperones, Miss Fletcher, one of the oldest teachers in school. To my amazement, she smiled at him and said hello.

"I was wondering, ma'am, if we could leave these here by you? My date's friend didn't come back yet and I promised her a dance."

"Certainly, Steven, very sensible." She beamed at him. Steve looked at me and I put the purses on the seat next to her.

As we walked away, I hissed at him. "What if she looks inside?"

"She won't." He chuckled. "She loves me, I've had her for Math for years." He looked at my sceptical face. "What? I'm lovable! An' I'm good at Math, one of her best!"

As we got out there and found a space on the dance floor, the band switched songs again, starting up a reasonable cover of 'Don't Worry Baby' by The Beach Boys. I paused, now that this was a slower tempo. Steve just nodded.

"Even better, slow I can do." He held me real close.

As we danced, something occurred to me. "You have Miss Fletcher for Math?"

He nodded.

"So how come you knew I had Ferguson?" I asked suspiciously.

"I never said I was in the same class." He got defensive, but he didn't let go of me. I just looked up at him, with an expression that let him know I wanted an answer.

"History. Wednesdays, period two, I had History last year. Nearly failed it, too."

"How come? Not so good at History?"

"Nah," Steve Randle grinned at me, "Had a window seat. Kept getting distracted. You can see right across to the back row of Ferguson's room from History."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I still don't own The Outsiders

* * *

Well, that was a first. For someone who claimed he couldn't dance, Steve did better than okay. If you count getting split up by one of the chaperones, as doing okay. I'm not sure that we totally qualified as _lewd conduct,_ whatever the hell that is exactly. I thought we were just dancing. Kind of.

Anyway, we were told to sit the next one out.

Sodapop and Sandy reappeared. We hadn't seen them on the dance floor and by the state of her hair I figured they'd been practising a little of their own lewd conduct somewhere. She grabbed my arm and marched me off to the restrooms. Given that the dance was in the gym, this was the girls' locker room. Never my favourite place, even when I was in school; I probably held the record for ditching just about every sporting activity.

There were a few other girls milling about, no one I recognised.

I lit up a weed while she attacked her hair in front of the mirrors. She kept a surprising variety of combs and brushes in that little purse.

"So?" Sandy grinned at me.

"So?"

"C'mon Evie, I didn't do that bad, did I? Soda says Steve likes you."

"You had time to talk?" I mocked.

She pulled a face at me, but then she smiled - like the cat who got the cream _and_ a freshly killed bird to dip in it. "He's _so_ fuckin' tuff. He kisses like a dream."

"Why, I do believe I heard that somewhere before. Hold on..." I pretended to scan the walls of the locker room, "...yup, over there and...there...and...oh nah, that one's about the size of his dick, not how he kisses. Wait, do you have a pen on you? You could add tonight's rating."

She started laughing, despite trying not to. She motioned for me to share the cigarette, talking between drags.

"Don't care what you say. There won't be no more updates after tonight."

I looked at her carefully. _Goddamn_, I thought, _she's serious_. "_You_ are taking the One Night King off the market?"

"Done deal, babe." She smirked. "He don't know what hit him."

I took the weed back and set about finishing it, impressed with her confidence. She always did like getting her own way. We used some vodka as mouthwash and turned to leave.

A group of girls were just coming in. Jackie lookalikes, all of 'em, I half expected them to have little white gloves on. Judy Milton at the centre, like the Queen Bee she was. We strolled past. They sneered.

"Did you _see_ the exhibition out there?" One of them said, not exactly quietly. "_Disgusting_. I thought they were actually going to _do it_."

"Oh, I imagine that's already happened," Judy said in an airy voice, provoking a chorus of delightedly shocked giggles. "I imagine you could already find filthy fingerprints on her underwear."

I stopped.

"I mean," she continued as they crowded around the mirrors. "Did you ever see Steve Randle with clean hands?" They found that hilarious.

I turned around.

Sandy glanced at me. "Evie..." she warned quietly.

"Let me get this straight." I marched back over to Judy. The drones had the sense to step back a little. "The funniest thing about me gettin' it on with a guy is that he knows how to work for a livin'? God forbid one of your candyass limpdicks should get his hands dirty."

She looked at me in complete shock, as if one of the lockers had up and spoken to her.

Sandy pulled me away. "Don't sweat it, Evie, c'mon, let's go back." We got as far as the door.

Judy did one of those fake coughs that don't really disguise the words. "White trash," she said quietly, in her cut glass voice.

She didn't have time to react as I launched myself at her, slapping her real good. One of the drones screamed.

Give her her due, Judy recovered quickly, grabbing my hair hard. Maybe she had sisters. I was at a disadvantage because she had to be at least five seven, but I rammed myself into her, shoving her back against the nearest locker. At least she had long hair, so I discovered I could reach it. More screams.

It was over before it began really. One of the teachers must have heard the noise because we were pulled apart. The bees were straight away buzzing over their version of events. I figured I'd better book it.

Sandy arrived at a run with Soda and Steve, as I was straightening out my top.

"What the fuck happened?" Steve asked. Soda was craning his neck, looking in the open door behind me.

"_Shit_, my purse." I looked around. Sandy darted into the locker room and retrieved it.

"I think we should get out of here," she said, "Thompson's getting an earful from the rich bitches."

We hit the parking lot at a run, climbing into the car, laughing as Sandy made it sound like I'd gone three rounds with Cassius Clay.

"What d'ya wanna do now?" Soda asked, his arm draped over Sandy's shoulders. We all looked at each other and shrugged.

"Dairy Queen?" Steve asked me, "Get some ice on your face?" I put my hand up to my cheek, only just realising why it was stinging.

"Shit. Is it bad?" I asked. He angled my face towards the street lamp.

"Nah, just a scratch."

"I gotta go to work in the morning!" I tried to look in the rear-view, but the light was wrong.

"So? I been to work plenty of times after a fight." He smirked, turning the key over.

"Asshole," I muttered, but not with any real feeling. He smiled. And so did I.

XXX

It was pretty quiet, not surprising given that most of the usual clientele were probably at the dance. Not empty though. Two-Bit Mathews whooped a greeting at us as we went in, so I suppose we had no choice but to go over to where they were all sitting. Soda and Steve dragged a table and four chairs over to their booth.

"Christ alive, we gotta put up with you clowns an' all? What I gotta do to get a little privacy?" Dallas griped, his arms tightening around Sylvia. I had no idea if he was serious or not. The only thing I knew about Dallas Winston was to stay away.

Sylvia slapped his hand off her chest. "Fuck off down to Buck's, get all the privacy ya want," she snapped at him, motioning for Sandy to sit near to her.

"Maybe I will." He hissed at her. She gave him a level stare. He put his hands behind his head, leaning back on the seat and glared at her. She turned her back on him, whispering to Sandy.

I was torn between going to the restroom to check out my face and leaving Sandy with Sylvia. In the end, I decided I had to see how bad I looked. It was actually pretty unimpressive, the red around the scratch was fading already. I figured I'd be able to hide it under make up for work, that was the important thing.

When I got back to the booth, Cokes had appeared and they'd obviously been talking about me because Two-Bit greeted me with a sly, "Hey, slugger!" as I sat next to Steve. It was the only seat left.

"Wish I'd been there." Sylvia grinned. "I'd've been right behind ya, I hate that Judy Milton."

"You hate everyone," Dallas added, matter of factly.

"If they give me reason." She eyeballed him meaningfully again. He smiled lazily. I figured this was foreplay for them.

Steve fished an ice cube out of his drink and balled it in a couple of napkins. He handed it to me without a word, continuing his conversation with Soda. It actually felt kind of soothing on my cheek.

"So how was the dance, before the fireworks?" Two-Bit asked, "I assume me n' Johnny ain't going over there now." The dark haired kid next to him shrugged, like he didn't care one way or the other. I knew who they were, without knowing them, if that makes sense. Hell, I reckon everyone in school must've had Two-Bit in one class or another at some time, he seemed to have tried everything at least once.

Soda was telling him about the band, apparently they knew one of the guy's brothers or something.

"Was this before or after the Pocket Rocket exploded in the locker room?" Two-Bit wisecracked. I scowled at him. "Hey, I'm just sayin'," he continued, "you must've been punchin' above your weight, Little Miss Dynamite_." He did not just go there_, I thought.

"Oh! Am I short?" I exclaimed, in a amazed voice. "You're the first person to ever notice! No one ever thought to comment on it before..." I put my hand over my mouth in an exaggerated gesture of shock.

He stared, worried, for just a second as I kept my face straight, then I slowly lowered all but my middle finger, rotated it at him and smiled sweetly. Two-Bit burst into laughter, slapping the table. "I like her," he said, "she's a keeper, Randle."

"And I am considerably taller than Brenda fuckin' Lee," I added to the general conversation. Just to get it clear.

"What I really wanna know," Sodapop said, with one of his trademark grins, "...is what exactly it said about me on the wall in the girls' locker room." They all exploded into laughter and catcalls and Steve threw the soggy napkin that had contained my ice cube at him. "I definitely saw my name," Soda protested.

"Well, that's a lie, right there, 'cause everyone knows you can't read for shit," Dallas said slyly. Soda bristled and they got into some of that "Oh, yeah?", "What ya gonna do about it?" facing off idiocy that guys do between themselves, but Soda lost interest when Sandy tugged on his hand and whispered in his ear. He chuckled and put his arm around her.

"Maybe I'll let ya find out later if it's true." I heard him whisper to her. She just smiled and leaned in to him. His other hand went to her hair. I started to think that maybe her aim to pin him down might not be so unrealistic. I also noticed Sylvia paying attention to them, out the corner of her eye. Dallas's hand was creeping back around her waist. This time she seemed inclined to let him do it.

Two-Bit stretched theatrically and nudged Johnny. "C'mon, bud." He clicked his teeth. "I see where this evening is heading." He slid out of the booth, squeezing past Steve and me. "Let's leave these healthy young people alone with their hormones." Johnny blushed, swear to God, he blushed. I never saw a guy do that before. He stood there with his hands in his jacket pockets, as Two-Bit made arrangements to meet Sodapop over the weekend, and he never looked directly at me, Sandy or Sylvia.

So then we were left with the empty half of the booth. It was on the same side as Steve and I, but Soda was obviously itching to take possession.

Steve looked at me, like he was deciding something. He stood up. "I'mma go outside for some fresh air," he said. I waited a beat, but it seemed like that was all the invitation I was getting. Sandy was shooting me significant looks, practically nodding her head like Lassie to tell me to go. _Aw, what the hell_, I thought. I stood up.

"Evie," Sylvia said in an innocent tone that didn't suit her. "You don't got a steady guy, do you?"

I gave her a look. She knew damn well I didn't.

"Only," she continued, toying with the straw in her glass, "some people can be awful hypocrites, so I thought I'd better check." Her eyes rested on Steve, just for a second.

"The fuck..?" I started, thinking she was calling me a hypocrite, but Steve grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the door.

"She ain't talkin' about you," he growled, so only I could hear.

Once we were outside, he dropped my hand. We went around to the side of the building, where we couldn't be seen from their booth.

"What's the deal with you and Sylvia?" I had to ask.

He was fumbling with a packet of Kools, but he didn't light the stick he took out. "She's a bitch," he said, shrugging.

"That's a given. And..." I prompted.

"An' I called her on it, an' she don't like it." He sounded evasive.

"An' the crack about bein' a hypocrite? That's a pretty big word for her to be throwing around."

He looked at me then, maybe the first time he'd really looked at me since we got there. I noticed he had really long eyelashes. I spend a fortune on false lashes, it don't seem fair that guys could care less and they can have great ones naturally.

"She fools around behind Dally's back." He was gauging my reaction.

"An' he doesn't do that to her?" I asked, cautiously. He ignored that.

"She tried it with Johnny when Dally was in the cooler."

"Johnny?" I was surprised. "He must've run a mile."

Steve shook his head. "I put him straight. Her too. He had no idea what she was draggin' him into." Something in the way he said it made things suddenly clear to me.

"Dallas know about you and Sylvia?" I asked him. His eyes went wide. "Ain't that what you're saying?" I said quietly. "Ain't that why you think she's a tramp and she thinks you're a hypocrite?"

He looked like he was going to deny it, then his mouth twisted into that half smile. "You're a very smart girl. An' now you got the means to put me in hospital, or worse, 'cause, no, I don't think Dally knows. Don't think I'd still be walkin' if he did."

I shrugged. "You better not cross me, then, since I have this valuable information." But I was teasing him and he knew it.

He nodded. "So, I should maybe keep tabs on you..." He put the weed back and the packet into his pocket. "Make sure I know what you're doin', that kind of thing..." He was very close now.

"How you gonna do that?" I asked, which was kind of redundant because he was already leaning down to kiss me.


	3. Chapter 3

"Evie, honey?" Surprise number one of the morning. I never saw Ma up before I went to work on a Saturday. I stopped in the doorway, looking back. I was fairly confident the Max Factor was doing it's thing on my cheek. I hoped so, I had to get past Marian too, and that'd be the test. I'd done my eyes real heavy as a distraction, just in case.

"Was that one of Karen Curtis's boys I saw, picking you up last night?" Surprises number two and three. Didn't know she knew the Curtis boys. And she'd looked out the window. Must've been a commercial she didn't like.

"Yup, the middle one, Sodapop. Not picking me up, though, he was taking Sandy to the dance." Even as I told her, I could see she wasn't really listening, she was still caught in the same train of thought she'd started out on.

"Hellava thing, her and Darrel goin' like that." She shook her head. "How're the boys doin'?"

I shrugged. "Okay, I guess. I don't really know them, Ma. I gotta go, gonna be late."

She didn't hit me with any more bolts out of the blue, so I made it to the bus in time. I spent the journey thinking about last night.

XXX

"_You wanna go for a drive?" he'd asked, which had a whole world of other meaning. _

"_Where ya thinking of drivin' to?" Which meant that I wasn't saying no. Necessarily._

"_I hear the lake's real pretty at this time of night." He looped his arm over my shoulders, steering me towards the car._

"_Oh, you hear that, do ya?"I knew exactly how much we'd be seeing of the scenery if he got me out to the lake._

_XXX_

I was still smiling when I got to the store. Marian was unlocking the back door.

"Mornin', Sweet Pea." She grinned. "Have a good time last night?"

I nodded. "It was okay."

"Double lashes, nice look," she commented, indicating my eye makeup. "What was your blind date like?" She went through and hit the switch on the coffee pot in the back room, filling the jug and tipping it in. Priorities.

"Who said I had a blind date?" I called, opening the blinds out front.

"Ha. Your friend seemed to have something up her sleeve. C'mon, we got ten minutes before the delivery truck gets here, tell me everything!" She leaned on the sales counter.

"What 'everything'?" I laughed. "If there _was_ a blind date, and I ain't sayin' there was, what could possibly have happened, the first time I met him?" I tried for a coy look and obviously failed, because she groaned theatrically.

"Evie, you're killin' me, girl. I need details. Something to spice up my boring, old married existence."

"I think your old, married _imagination_ is doin' just fine by itself!" I retorted, although I knew it was only a matter of time before she got me to spill. We'd played this game before. I went around, checking the displays, pulling out any stems that looked past their best.

"Did ya walk home by yourself, all alone?" Marian teased, in a sad little voice.

I shook my head, smiling. I couldn't help it. "Steve drove me."

"Aha! So there was a 'Steve'!" She pounced on the information. I grinned.

XXX

"_Come on, just a little drive." He was trying real hard to be persuasive, when Soda and the others barreled out, Soda yelling at Steve not to disappear with the car, because they wanted rides over to the park. Steve was cussing under his breath something fierce. I leaned up and told him quietly that he wasn't missing anything, because I wasn't going over to the lake anyway._

"_You a good girl on a first date, then?" he asked, a bit sarcastically for my liking._

"_Maybe you'll find out, if we ever have one." I said pointedly. When he looked confused I reminded him. "What was it ya said? 'I didn't invite you. I didn't know I was coming with you'? That don't hardly count as a first date."_

_XXX_

By mid morning we were slammed. Barbara, who'd worked for Marian the longest, was off visiting her sick dad out of town and the latest weekend girl just never showed. I couldn't understand that. I'd been working Saturdays as soon as I could persuade someone to give me a job and I was itching to work full time by the time I turned sixteen. I guess the new girl just didn't need the money as much.

"Evie, come write out the cards for these deliveries," Marian called. She always got me to do the cards, said my handwriting was the neatest. Just about the only skill I got of school with; never understood half of what we had to take down, but it always looked good.

I went into the back room, while Marian took a turn up at the counter. The cards were the usual mix of 'Happy Birthday', 'Congratulations' and one or two saying 'Sorry'. They always made me smile. I always wondered if those flowers worked, or if they got hurled into the trash, along with the card I was writing so carefully. I didn't need to check the addresses to know they'd be going over to the South side. No one where I lived had the cash to waste on apology flowers. No one where I lived was heavy into apologies at all.

XXX

"_So, you wanna do this date thing then, or what?" he'd said in an offhand way. _

_We'd dropped everyone else off, once it got too cold to hang at the park any more. Soda had walked Sandy from the nearest corner, since she didn't want her step dad to see the car pulling up. Dallas and Sylvia had both got out at Buck's. Now we were outside my house. The lights were all off._

"_Glory, you make it sound so appealing." I laughed._

_Steve frowned at me. "Is that yes or no? 'Cause I ain't into playin' games."_

_I kissed him for an answer. I wasn't about to give Sandy a score to compare, but he kissed real good. I let him slide his hand up my top before I pulled away. He was okay about me stopping him, guess he realized we were right outside my house and all. _

"_I ain't into playin' games, neither." I told him. "But I don't wanna be 'convenient' just 'cause your buddy likes Sandy."_

_He flashed the half smile at me. It was like he couldn't let himself be all the way happy. Shame, because he was real cute when he smiled. "Babe, I get the feeling you are anything but convenient."_

"_Damn straight!" I told him, getting out of the car. I noticed that he didn't start the engine until I was inside the house._

_XXX_

Closing time was coming around fast and I was ready for it. I swept around the store while Marian went out back to the dumpster. I always appreciated that she didn't just give me the grunt work when we were short handed, she stepped in and did the clearing up too.

When she came back in, she was smiling. "You can take off, Sweet Pea," she said.

I looked around, surprised because we weren't quite done. "It's okay, there's time before my bus anyways," I answered. She shook her head and took the broom out of my hands.

"You ain't takin' the bus," she said mysteriously, widening her eyes and grinning. She shooed me out back, but called again, "Evie."

I turned back, my hand on the door.

"Update. Monday." She held up her finger, like she was marking a checklist. Crazy woman.

He was leaning on the hood of the car, hands in his pockets, looking kind of cute in his DX shirt, even if it was all over oil and dirt. He looked over at me, biting his lip.

I walked over. Stopped just in front of him. Maybe he was looking more than kind of cute.

"I was passin' by," he said, real casual.

"Passin' by? The service alley at the back of the store?" I challenged.

He nodded, like this made complete sense.

"Just when I was finishing work?"

He winced. "Not so much." I waited for him to elaborate. "I been here forty minutes," he admitted sheepishly. "I didn't know what time y'all finished." The half smile made an appearance, then he grumbled, "Who the hell knew people still wanna buy flowers so late!"

"How did you know 'here' was 'here'?" I was puzzled.

"I listened!" he said, indignantly.

I bit back a smile. "Well, this has been nice, but I gotta run. My bus'll go without me." I pretended to turn away. Steve made a growl of annoyed surprise and sprang off the car, snagging my arm to hold me back.

"What the hell?" He looked like he didn't know what was going on. Good.

"Oh, did I miss the part where you asked if I wanted a ride home?" I said, but I was leaning into him. He smiled ruefully, pulling me back with him, so he was holding me against him as he leaned back on the car again. I slid my arms around him.

"Is this how it's goin' to be, then? You gonna bust my balls every time we meet?" He kissed me.

"Maybe. If you're lucky," I shot back, kissing him right back.

We were interrupted by a piercing wolf whistle. Steve snapped upright, looking around. I saw Marian, locking the back door. She waved and gave me a thumbs up. I groaned with embarrassment.

"My boss is a crazy woman," I told Steve, walking around to the passenger door.

"Nah. She digs okay." He surprised me. "Anyone else would've called the cops, figured I was casing the joint." He turned the engine over, took off fast. I was starting to realize that was how he always drove.

"Casing the joint for the well known trade in knock off flowers?" I scoffed.

"People pay with money for flowers, don't they? You got a cash register, don't ya?" He responded, scornfully. Okay, then, one point to him.

We had to stop at the lights just as we pulled onto The Ribbon and a Corvair Corsa with a sweet custom paint job pulled up next to us. I noticed Steve slide his eyes over to the guy behind the wheel. The guy tilted his head slightly to acknowledge Steve and revved his engine. Steve did the same. He sat back a bit and flexed his shoulders. I put my hand down to hold onto the side of the seat. I knew where this was going.

I swear I didn't see the lights change. Both cars shot forward, engines roaring. I didn't think we stood a chance against the Corvair, but we stayed level for a long ways, blurring past the hamburger stands and drive-ins, until we passed whatever the arbitrary finish line was. Steve seemed to think his honor was intact anyway, to judge by the insults he yelled after the other guy as he turned off The Ribbon.

He was laughing and he slapped the wheel. I swear he was congratulating the car like it was a horse. He looked so handsome in that moment, as he turned to me, grinning, like whatever it was that usually weighed him down was gone, leaving him carefree, happy.

I wondered if he'd almost forgotten I was there, because he asked if I was okay, like maybe I'd been scared or some shit.

"_Okay_?" I laughed, "Baby, can't you go any faster?"


	4. Chapter 4

"So, we can hit the Nightly Double," Steve said, when we'd reached my house. "Soda already asked Sandy... I mean, if you'd like?" I guess he remembered what I'd said about not just being convenient because he got all defensive. "I mean, we don't have to."

"Give me an hour?" I grinned. I was happier than he realized, since he'd turned up at the flower shop to give me a ride. It seemed as if he actually liked _me_, not just because I came as a package with Sandy. I was real happy about that. No need for him to know just yet, though.

When I went in, the quiz programs had started and Ma's comments to me were interspersed with her answering what she could, like the guy with the questions could actually hear her.

"Are you going straight back out?" She was just enquiring because she knew she should, she wouldn't really have an opinion or a veto, I knew. "Abraham Lincoln!_" s_he announced, making me jump as I looked into the living room.

"Uh huh. Is Sarah in?" She wasn't. Good, should still be hot water for me then.

"Who are you going out with? _South _Dakota, you idiot!"

I sighed. "Steve Randle, Ma." She nodded absently, already losing interest in me. _Yeah, Ma_, I continued in my head as I went upstairs, _he's real tuff and he drives like he's on fire and he's cute when he smiles and...I think he likes me._

Turned out Saturday night at the Nightly Double was a literal wash out. It rained so hard, they had to stop the movie, the electrics were going out or something. We were pretty hacked but Sodapop suggested we went over to his place.

We pulled up outside a house like hundreds of others and ran inside, the rain still hitting us like a shower on full. Soda was soaked, his t shirt plastered to him, because he'd given Sandy his shirt to hold over her head. They made a show out of drying each other's faces with the shirt, all cutesy with the dabbing at noses and giggling.

Steve took out his comb and rearranged his hair into the same swirls it'd had before, although glory only knows what damage he thought the rain could've done against the grease. Eventually, he remembered I was there and asked if I wanted a towel or anything. I told him no. I wasn't going to stress over something like a little rain. Maybe that's why that British chick got this kind of short hair, because they get a lot of rain in London, at least that's what I see in the movies. I like her, I can rock her look...I'd kill for some of her dresses.

A kid came out to investigate the noise. He was cute enough, kind of like Sodapop, especially now Soda's hair looked darker from being wet. He looked at me and Sandy shyly. Soda introduced us.

"Hi, Ponyboy. It's nice to meet you properly, I seen you around school, of course." Sandy smiled at him. I looked at her, a bit surprised. To my knowledge she didn't know him from a hole in the ground. But the smile and the baby blues were doing their thing, and the kid was putty in her hands. You could practically see the crush growing in his brain as he stammered 'hello' back. I wondered why she was doing it, since she already seemed to have Sodapop reeled in.

Steve was playing with the radio, changing the station to find something he wanted to listen to. He seemed to be right at home, even more so when he went to fetch drinks without even asking Soda. While he was out of the room, the front door burst open and in rolled Dallas and Johnny Cade, on a tide of cussing that described the rain in inventive and lurid detail, as they shook themselves like dogs.

Soda and Sandy were curled up together in one of the armchairs and Dallas's eyes slid past them to where I was, on the couch. He looked me over, like guys do, only seeming to remember who I was when Steve came back in and sat next to me. Dallas didn't stop looking, though, just came to the end of his inspection, and joined in the story Johnny was telling.

Ponyboy had rustled up a couple of towels for them and they dried off some, sitting on the floor and talking about how they'd been expecting to meet Two-Bit, but he hadn't showed and they'd been forced to make a run for it.

"I'm tellin' ya, he's fuckin' dead meat when I catch him," Dallas threatened.

"If his heap of crap car went out on him again, he's probably still out there somewhere." Johnny tossed the towel back at Ponyboy, who wasn't looking and took it on the side of his face. He squawked and lobbed it back hard and the two of them started tussling, rolling around on the floor and laughing. I moved my feet up onto the couch as they came near and Steve aimed a kick at them, causing Ponyboy to yelp and that made Soda look up from kissing Sandy. Steve shrugged like he didn't know what had happened and leaned back, putting his arm around me.

The guys all got into a discussion about what we should do with the rest of the evening.

"Ain't you supposed to be seeing Sylvia?" Soda enquired, but Dallas just grunted.

"Aw, who the hell knows with that bitch?" He seemed quite comfortable dismissing Sylvia from the conversation. I saw Sandy file the information away in her brain.

While they were still deciding what to do, the door came open again and the last Curtis brother showed up. He didn't seem surprised to find his living room full of people, he just asked if there was any dinner left.

The other guys seemed to shrink to my eyes, even Steve, with his arm muscles clearly visible thanks to his shirt sleeves rolled up so carefully. But next to Darry, they all seemed like kids. He nodded hellos all round. I realized why I knew his face. There was a trophy cabinet in the main hallway at school, with photos in it, past record holders, and that kind of shit. Whatever his records were, they still held, because his picture had been there as long as I could remember. Not that I used to check it out or anything, the glass doors of the cabinet were just a useful mirror if you were walking down that way.

If Sandy had been sweet to the kid, she amped it up about ten times to Darry. I almost wondered if she was lining him up too, which was beyond a joke. He was out of our league. He didn't seem to detect it though, was just as polite to me as he was to her.

I noticed the kid got kind of scowly when Darry asked him if he'd done all his homework, for all the world as if was his dad, not his brother. I thought about what my mom had asked me, about how they were getting on. I looked around the room a little. It didn't look much different to any one of a dozen houses I could mention, parents or no parents. I wondered how long people have to be gone before their influence on the environment gets lost. I didn't remember enough about my dad to know if our house had traces of him or not.

"He was doin' it when we got in..." Soda took up for his little brother, "...we distracted him." Ponyboy slunk off to wherever he needed to be, casting a resentful look at Darry, who was headed to the kitchen. I didn't blame the kid, homework on Saturday, _what the hell_? If I ever got to mine, back in the day, it was on the morning it was due.

Steve was working his way closer, his arm pulling me in. He leaned in to my ear. "Wanna ditch this crowd, go for a drive, just us?"

Before I could answer, Dallas piped up in a breathy voice, "Oh, Stevie! I thought you'd never ask. Take me for a drive, big boy, take me all the.." He never got to finish, because Steve launched himself at him, tackling him full length on the floor. Johnny swore loudly and scrambled out of the way and Sandy yelped, although her eyes were bright.

Steve landed a full on punch to Dally's guts and got clocked on the head in return. They rolled across the room, trading blows. It wasn't the same as Ponyboy's and Johnny's roughhousing, these two weren't laughing.

There was a crash as the coffee table went over and then Darry appeared, grabbing Dallas, who happened to be on top, and scooping him up by a fistful of his shirt. For a second, Dally hung like a cartoon character, still trying to reach Steve, then Darry dropped him to the side, glaring at Steve where he lay.

"Fucks sake, I'm eating'!" He growled at them, "Pick that up, an' if it's broken, I'mma break you!" He stalked out of the room.

"Christ alive, Randle, you fuckin' maniac!" Dallas was rubbing his side, glowering at Steve. Soda laid a hand on Steve's shoulder as he went to react.

"Chill, man," he said, "he was only yankin' your chain."

"Yeah." Dally's voice was dripping acid. "I was only yankin' your chain. _Fuckin' maniac_." The last two words were muttered to himself.

Johnny set the coffee table upright and Steve stood up, catching his breath. I could see a red mark coming up on his cheekbone. Soda gathered up the empty Pepsi bottles and newspaper from where they'd spilled. Nothing seemed broken, amazingly.

I caught Steve's eye and I stood up, walking over to him. I put my hand in his and gently tugged towards the door.

"We gotta do _something._" Johnny complained. "Poker, at least." Dallas agreed and they started arguing over who would deal first. Soda looked at Sandy, guiltily, I thought, like he probably wanted to play.

"Can you use your brother's truck to drive me home?" she asked him, her body language promising it would be worth his while. "I don't mind." Her smile was working its magic. "And then you could come back and play cards..." He beamed at her like she was the answer to all his prayers. And I suppose, if she was offering him the opportunity to cop a feel, followed by a poker game, she was.

Steve and I slipped out, Steve nodding at Soda to let him know we were going. It was still raining, although not so hard, and we raced to his car and flung ourselves inside. He still seemed on edge, his face set and his movements snatched as he started the engine.

He bit his lip and tapped the wheel. "Where d'ya wanna go?"

I liked that. He could've just headed for the lake. I suggested the park out past the school, which was a half way compromise on both distance and promises. He relaxed visibly.

"I thought..maybe you'd wanna go home..." The tone was gruff, but I figured he was thinking about his behaviour and whether he'd put me off. I scooted across to sit closer to him as he drove.

"Because you belted Dallas? Nah, I woulda done it myself, if I thought he had any sense of feeling," I claimed outrageously. As if I would get within arm's length of Dallas Winston. He was no Judy Milton. Steve laughed shortly.

"He just gets under my skin, ya dig?"

"Yours an' everyone else's."

"Yeah, but he was, y'know..._lookin_' at you 'n all."

_Oh_. _He noticed. And he didn't like it_. I touched his cheek, gently."That hurt?"

"Nah," he scoffed. But he let my fingers rest against his face.

It was busy at the park, the rain must've meant lots of couples were resorting to parking up. I suggested Steve pull over towards some trees at the back of the lot, where it was usually quieter. He looked at me with a smirk. "You been here before then?"

I stared him down. "Like you ain't been here, or the lake, or anywhere similar?"

"Well, a few times..." The half smile reappeared.

"Actually, I ain't itchin' to hear about your ex girlfriends." I surprised myself with how snappy I was. "Especially if we're talkin' Sylvia." _ Was I though? Did I want to know? Why'd I bring her up?_

"Shit, she wasn't..she don't hardly qualify as a one nighter even..."

_Ah_, I knew what Sylvia's specialty was, thanks to the details Sandy had passed on. I could live with that. He parked and switched off the engine. I tucked into his arms and we got comfortable. He continued talking, although I hadn't asked.

"Soda had the flu or something. I went drinking with Two-Bit - which means drinking too much - or I wouldn't have gone near her. But I was blitzed when he disappeared, an' she told me Dally had dumped her before he went in the cooler." He shook his head, like he didn't believe how stupid he'd been. "I don't remember much, but she talked like we could be together. _Fuckin' lying broad_..._Fuckin' idiot me." _His voice was bitter_. "_Next day, I seen her with a guy from the Brumly crew an' I heard Dally hadn't dumped her at all. She was all over Johnny within a week, but I warned him off good...When Dally got back, he just about kicked the Brumly guy's teeth out."

"Glory, be easier to set up as a dentist if he had to do that to every guy Sylvia went down on," I said slyly. Steve snorted with laughter. I had one more question. "But she never told Dallas about you?"

He shrugged. "I ain't sure why not. She needles me about it sometimes. I figure the other guy did the trick, got Dally's attention back on her."

I wondered what the point of it all was. Why Dallas and Sylvia needed these games to maintain interest in each other. If Sylvia and I would have to cover the subject sometime. I figured she wouldn't be able to resist needling me as well.

"Can we stop yakkin' about them?" Steve was shifting against me, although I'd thought we were comfortable. I realized why he wasn't when he bumped hard against my hip. He started kissing my neck. "Evie?" He was asking in a real quiet voice, between kisses. "This counts, right? Like a date, 'n all?"

I told him, yeah, this counted. Then I showed him how much I thought it counted.

* * *

It's taken longer than I wanted, but I'm back into this...and there's more if anyone wants...

It's got a fair amount of traffic...but who likes/dislikes? Please let me know, even if it's just a word, all reviews appreciated :)


	5. Chapter 5

A/N:Thanks everyone who's still with me. Kristina/Anon/Guest reviewers, you know who you are, thank you. Lo and behold, reviews got me writing...

* * *

When I woke up late on Sunday morning, everything outside looked fresh and new. Even I felt fresh and new. Must've been all that rain last night. I sat on my bed, looking out the window, smiling.

Then I remembered that I had to face Sandy.

Usually after a Saturday night, Sandy and I had plenty to say to each other. Either we'd doubled and wanted to relive all the good and bad bits, or one of us had been out and needed to catch up the other. She turned up at my house, Sunday afternoons, regular as clockwork.

Today, I had no idea what I was going to say to her. I had no idea what I was thinking myself. I couldn't do the usual thing, where we'd rip guys to shreds because they didn't look right, or didn't talk to us right or they hadn't bought us the right drinks. A very few times, the guys we'd dated had been okay and we'd spent time talking about their good points, maybe planning whether to see them again.

I didn't _want_ to talk to her about Steve.

I didn't want her ripping him to shreds. But I especially didn't want to tell her what I liked about him.

I was still coming to terms with the fact that there was a hell of a lot I liked about him.

Less than forty eight hours ago, I'd thought she'd got me a nightmare date. But now I was feeling sick at the idea he might not call me. He hadn't called me. Was it normal to want a call Sunday morning, right after being out on Saturday night? I'd never been that bothered before. What did he mean when he dropped me off and said _I'll call you_? Why hadn't I pinned him down to a specific time, was I just supposed to wait? And wait?

Sandy waltzed up the path, skirting around the house to come in the back way, like always. She had her head in the fridge by the time I got down to the kitchen.

"Can I have this chicken?" She already had the piece half way to her mouth. I nodded, figuring her step dad had put paid to another quiet family lunch at their house. She passed me a bottle of Pepsi and we grabbed a bag of chips to take upstairs.

Sarah was coming out of her room as we got to the stairs. She smiled at Sandy. "I'm doin' rinses and dyes this semester, if you want a change." She was looking at Sandy's hair, with what I'm sure she thought was a professional eye. Sandy laughed and said she'd think about it.

"Glory!" She pulled a face at me as we ran into my room and shut the door. "How long she been at beauty school? Two months? She ain't getting near my hair!"

"She ain't that bad. She got full marks on her last assessment." I don't know why I was defending her. I wouldn't let her near my hair either. Her idea of style was way out of date. She was like a miniature version of Ma, even though she only had three years on me.

"I bet she won't even finish the course, if that Tony guy gets around to proposing..." Sandy was done with the chicken leg and tossed it in the trash, licking her fingers. She was probably right. Tony was Sarah's first and only boyfriend, they'd been going since they were fourteen and she was adamant she was getting married to him. In fact, she was _saving herself..._I had no idea how we were related. Judging by the way she looked at me sometimes, neither did she.

I figured there might be something wrong with Tony. I never heard that he played around behind her back. He worked in his uncle's dry cleaning business and my own theory was that the chemicals robbed him of his sex drive. Or he was like Barratt. Maybe.

Sandy was holding her hair up in the mirror. "Think Soda would like it if I got my hair cut shorter?"

"I have no clue." I laughed. "I ain't had a conversation with him yet, you got each others' lips tied up every time I seen him."

Sandy stretched out on the bed, practically purring. "But he does it so good..."

"An' what's he sayin' about you, I wonder?" Maybe if I could keep her yakking about Soda, she wouldn't grill me about Steve. "How long did you keep him from the poker game, last night?"

She smiled suggestively. "Just long enough." She motioned for me to toss over the bag of chips and she crunched away as I settled at the other end of the bed. My bed, but she got the pillows.

"What are you up to? You wanted him for long enough."

Sandy nodded. "An' I told ya, I wanna keep him too. Sylvia said I did okay, for a start..." _The fuck? She saw Sylvia today, before she saw me?_ _I knew Sylvia had a hand in this._

"You're takin' relationship advice from _her?_" I couldn't help the bitchy tone.

"You know how long she's had Dallas?" Sandy challenged.

"Hell, I gotta add up all the on again, off again parts?"

"Exactly. He comes back, every time. She knows what she's doin', Evie. What works for Dallas. But she had the best idea 'bout Soda...an' I think it'll work."

I stared at her. Sandy smiled. "How many girls do you think he's had?"

I shrugged. "As many as he wanted."

"Exactly. _Again_." She was loving this. "Even if half of what you hear is true, he don't get turned down much, huh? So...if I make like I really wanna let him, but I can't just yet, he's gonna think it's always just around the corner...Makes me different."

As I absorbed what she was saying, the memory of Steve saying _'I ain't into playin' games'_ came into my mind. I'd told him the truth when I'd replied that neither was I. Guess neither of us would appreciate Sandy's playbook. Sandy looked at me carefully.

"Don't you go getting prissy on me." It sounded suspiciously like a warning. "I like Soda fine, I'm just working on keepin' him, is all."

I kicked her, not too hard. "I ain't prissy!"

"Good, 'cause I ain't even got to the description of what I _am_ gonna let him do...talking of." _Uh,oh, I know that look, she wants information._ "Where'd you and Randle end up last night?"

"We parked someplace."

She returned the kick. "Spill, Evie, I got a right to know, I set y'all up."

I felt like I had an even finer line to tread now, not knowing how much of what I said would get back to Sylvia. But she was good at secrets, Sandy. Maybe if I played it that way...

"He's okay." I tried. I couldn't stop myself smiling, just a little.

"Ha!" She pounced. "You like him!"

"But, I don't know...yet...Don't say anything, I don't want it to be like that kid from Claremore..."

She nodded. Someone had told him I really liked him and he'd dropped me before I could blink. Sandy had been so pissed she'd keyed his car for me, so it was a good comparison to draw on. She smiled, "Steve's better, though. I told ya, Soda said he digs you."

"Okay, then. But if it don't work, we can't double, so don't tell no one I like him..." I left it hanging, hoping that keeping quiet about me would fit in with her plan.

The phone rang. My heart about stopped. Even if I ran it was unlikely I'd make it before...

"Evie!" Sarah screeched up the stairs, "It's for you!"

I walked down, well aware that Sandy was sitting on the top stair behind me.

"_Hey_."

I was turned away from Sandy or she would've seen my eyes close briefly at the sound of his voice.

"Hey, yourself." _I'm really pleased you called. _

"So, I was thinking, Soda wants to go see that band from the dance again, on Friday night, make a double date thing of it, over to The Closing Gap."

"Uh huh." _Oh, God, let him realize that means, 'Yes, I want to go.'_

"It ain't that great of a place, but that guy he knows in the band, he can get us in for free."

"Okay, that sounds good."

"Okay, then. What time d'ya finish, Fridays?"

"Six."

"I'll pick you up, then? From work? 'Cause that'll be quickest, right?"

"Okay." _'Cause it's just about the speed, is it?_

"Okay. I'll be there."

_Oh, glory. Fuckin' glory. What now? She's listening. What do I say now?_

He cleared his throat. "Uh, I'mma pull some overtime this week, after school most nights, so I don't know what time I'll get done."

"Okay..." _And? Telling me this, why?_

"But, if it's not too late, d'ya wanna, maybe..go get something to eat? Like, without Soda and Sandy?"

"Yes." _Shit, that was a bit eager_. " I mean, call me, when you get done, okay?"

"Okay." _Can you hear people smiling? It sounds like he's smiling._ "Maybe Tuesday?"

"Okay."

"Okay. Catch ya later then."

"Yeah. Catch ya later." I hung up and turned around to see Sandy looking at me, her eyebrows all but disappeared into her hair.

"_Okay,_ then, I guess you really do think Steve Randle's _okay,_" she teased. "Was that an attempt on the world _okay _record or what?"

I stuck my tongue out at her, stamping up the stairs. "We're going out Friday, all of us." _He called._

"Yeah, I know."

"Well, thanks for tellin' me!" I sat on the bed again, busying myself lighting up a weed. Distracting her. _He called._

"I woulda got to it. I was gettin' to it." She snatched the cigarette and took a long drag. "Soda thinks his friend's band is goin' places. We might end up trailing them around different gigs."

I shrugged. "They were _okay_," I said pointedly.

She laughed. "Don't matter if they're the fuckin' Beatles. As long as we're out in public, I can keep him hungry."

_Glory, she was serious about this plan..._

_XXX_

The delivery truck was early on Monday, we didn't even have the coffee made. So it took a little while for Marian to warm up to her favourite subject, namely, _how was my weekend?_

"How was yours?" I countered, as we divided up the sprays and individual blooms.

"Not as young and handsome as yours, Sweet Pea," she said with a wink. "Nor as keen, waiting on you to finish work..."

I grinned.

"So, here's what I know." She approached it like a check list. "He's cute, got work– I saw the shirt - so he has spending money, has a car..."

"Not his!" I interrupted.

"..._drives_ a car," she continued, "obviously thinks you're something special – an' why wouldn't he?- am I missing anything, so far?"

I put on a nonchalant expression. "Good kisser?"

"Oooh...wait. Only 'good'?" she demanded.

"Okay, okay, _great_ kisser." I held up my hands in surrender. She grinned.

"Now we're talkin', Sweet Pea. You like him, huh?" She knew me too well.

I nodded. "Yeah, I think I do."

"That's great. I'm real happy for ya." And I think she was. She really listened when I talked. And she offered real advice, not all of which I was wanting, to tell the truth. But it was kind of nice to be able to tell someone how I was feeling.

After we'd talked some, Marian surprised me by asking, "What's in it for your friend, Blondie?"

"Sandy?"

"Yup, Sandy. She of the '_Oh, Miss Marian,_' fluttering eyelashes. She set you up with him, didn't she? She's goin' with his buddy?" Jeez, Marian saw through her. I shrugged and told her it suited both me and Sandy to double date.

"Okay, then." She didn't sound convinced. "But you be careful, 'cause it don't always work out, when you date buddies. What if the other two break up? How will that affect things?"

I was too happy right now to think that was ever going to be a problem. Not now that Steve had made it clear he wanted to see me without them.

* * *

Extra points if you noticed an ex that Evie thought about. There may be more than one... How is Steve going to like running into her past, do we think?

It might take a couple of chapters to find out - anyone still interested? Let me know!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I still don't own. Never will.

A/N: Thank you for the motivation to keep going, it makes a difference.

I know nothing about cars, be kind if it shows - I just wanted to mess with Steve :)

* * *

I think I would've ended up going to bed hungry on Tuesday. I was so nervous that he wouldn't call, that he wouldn't come by, that I couldn't have eaten if I wanted to. Sarah noticed, Ma didn't. Nothing new there.

But he called, when it was getting on for eight o'clock, to see if I still wanted to go out. I thought of Sandy and I didn't say 'okay'. I said 'sure'.

We drove to the Hardens out towards the bridge and I still didn't have much appetite. Steve, on the other hand was starving and he ordered twice what I did and still ate my fries.

I sipped a Coke as he demolished the food.

"Worked up an appetite, huh?" I teased. He nodded, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. I did notice he'd washed up and changed out of his DX shirt. Maybe using a napkin was a step too far.

"Yeah, overtime all this week, if I can." He grinned. "Mike's gonna let me buy that Two-Ten cheap, pay it off in instalments. An' I might have a chunk of dough comin' my way soon. She's a four speed manual, ya know, I can do a lot with that." He was so happy, I had to smile back.

"That's great, so all the work you already did on it will be to your own benefit."

"Aw, that was for market resale, I gotta think about really souping her now. I know a guy can get me cheater slicks for a real sweet price." His eyes lit up.

"Guy goes by the name of Shepard, by any chance?"

"Maybe."

"An' I hear you can get hubs for an even sweeter price...like, free, if you know the right people..." I left it dangling. He pulled a face at me, polishing off the last of the fries.

"Did it have fuel injection factory fitted?" I asked him. Steve stared at me.

"What?" I said defensively.

"Do you even know what that means?" he stammered.

"Duh. That it goes faster?" He was still staring. I took offence. "What? Should I be asking what pretty color you're gonna paint it?"

"No, I just..." Obviously, he had no idea what he just. "You know much about cars?"

"A bit." I was enjoying his shock. "Enough to know you gotta replace the radio with a twelve volt, or it'll drain the battery when it's parked." He looked like I'd hit him over the head. I hoped he wouldn't ask me anything else. That was actually everything I did know. But I didn't like the assumption that I was clueless. I grinned at him. "Can I drive it? Now it's yours?"

"You drive? Of course you do." He nodded and answered his own question. I nodded back.

"You know Barratt, runs out of Brumly? Drives a sweet T-bird? It's a real pretty blue one..." I teased.

"Barratt McIntyre? I know him." Steve said.

"He taught me to drive." I grinned.

Steve looked skeptical. "In his T-bird?" I nodded. "Why?" he demanded. I shrugged casually.

"We went around. Just a little while," I amended, as his face fell a little. I wished I could tell him he had nothing to be jealous about.

_I met Barratt at a party I went to, just about the time I dropped out of school. Sandy had dragged me there, no doubt, that's usually how it went down. There was a whole crowd of Brumly boys and they were giving Barratt a hard time about not having a girl. I think he asked me to dance by default of being nearest. He turned out to be real sweet. He just didn't like girls._

_When we parked up somewhere, he just talked about cars. That was when he gave me driving lessons, when everyone thought we were making out. The only time he ever laid a finger on me was in front of the guys he ran with, the couple of times we went out in a crowd. Enough times that they stopped ragging on him. It was enough to fool them if I just sat on his lap, something that looked normal. It didn't bother me that he wasn't like the others and I could see why it would be a bad thing if his buddies found out. Only time I ever lied to Sandy._

_He was real grateful that I wasn't about to tell anyone the truth. I was more than happy to spend time with a guy who wasn't a total pig. I was still wary after Ricky. Being with Barratt was more like having a brother to hang with. And he took me to a lot of Paul Newman movies. He really dug Paul Newman. We had that much in common._

Steve was looking a bit sulky, I thought. I wasn't totally sure if it was because I'd dated Barratt or because Barratt had a better car. Probably shouldn't have mentioned it to him.

"So, you gonna upgrade the radio?" I queried.

"Well, I wouldn't wanna drain the battery," he replied, sarcastically.

"If you're parked." I qualified. "Like, _at the lake_, for example. Wouldn't wanna run out of power _at the lake_." I held his gaze just long enough.

He couldn't stop the half smile flicking back. "That would be awkward." We both laughed then and I wondered if I'd always be able to turn his mood around so easily.

After he'd paid and we were walking back to the Chevy he asked if I wanted to go somewhere else for some dessert.

"Think you should?" That stopped him dead, he thought maybe I was saying he was fat or greedy or something. I smiled slyly, "Just, if you got a car to cherry out, maybe you oughta not shell out on dessert too?"

"I think I can stretch to ice cream." His pride was rearing its head.

"What if I wanted a deluxe sundae? I hope you're not assuming I'm a cheap date?" I said archly, as we got into the car.

He scowled at me. "_Do_ you want a deluxe sundae?"

"No. I'm just sayin'."

"Well, great. All the more for me."

"Get strawberry then. I don't like the taste of chocolate ice cream."

"I thought you said you didn't want..." he broke off as it dawned on him what I was saying. He leaned across, pulling me to kiss him then and there. "How d'ya feel about chilli and fries?"

XXXXX

As we drove back across town, Steve spotted a car with the hood up, pulled up at the side of the road. He swore under his breath and looked at me guiltily.

"It's Two-Bit," he said apologetically, slowing down.

I told him it was fine if he stopped.

"I won't take long, okay, just see if it's something quick to fix." We pulled up behind and Two-Bit's head popped out from under the hood.

"Man, am I glad to see you." He grinned at Steve. "A whole fuckin' country club's worth of Socs have been past, offering me polite words of encouragement, as you can imagine..."

Steve frowned. "Any of 'em give you trouble?"

"Nah, not a chance."

I hopped out and followed Steve round to the front of the car. Luckily, Two-Bit had maneuvered his Plymouth under a street light.

"Hey, Mighty Mouse!" Two-Bit greeted me.

"_Here I come to save the day,"_ I shot back. That one was too easy, he'd have to be more original than that. Like I'd never been called _that_ before.

Steve poked around in the engine for a minute. "Jeez, Two-Bit, you gotta spend some money on this, there's crap restin' on crap restin' on complete shit under here." His voice came up to us, muffled.

Two-Bit pulled a guilty face at me. "But there's always more interestin' things to buy..."

"Buy? You don't buy nothin' but beer and smokes, an' half the time you lift those!" Steve stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans. "Try her now."

Two-bit hurried to the driver's seat. The engine caught. He gave us a thumbs up.

"Drive her straight to the DX an' leave her there. I'll look at her tomorrow. She's just gonna go again, unless you cough up for some parts." Steve shook his head, like a doctor delivering bad news.

"Maybe we should follow him, just in case it goes out again on the way." I suggested.

Two-Bit looked at me gratefully. "What a mouse!" he said appreciatively, in the right cartoon tone. I stuck my tongue out at him.

So we followed him as the rust bucket limped over to the DX. The place was closed up but there was a space right by the workshop. And then we gave Two-Bit a ride home. By home, I mean the nearest place to his actual house that sold beer.

Then, it was too late really, for anywhere that sold good ice cream. That was what we agreed. So we went over to the park nearest my house. It was prettier at night, you couldn't see that most of the grass was scuffed away and the swings were rusted, the paint peeling off. In the moonlight it looked like somewhere you might actually want to let little kids play.

It was cold, but we walked around a little, kissing every so often. He leaned on the swing set while I sat on one of the seats and we talked. Doing what I supposed was the normal kind of date stuff, finding out of we liked the same bands or movies. We didn't really. He liked war movies and James Bond, I'd watch anything with my favourite actors and actresses, I wasn't that bothered about the story.

"You sound like Soda's kid brother, he'll watch just about anything the movie house shows," Steve said.

"Is it weird for them, livin' without their folks?" I was curious.

Steve chewed his lip. "Yeah. It's weird." His voice was flat. "It's only been, like, three months an' they gotta do all the shit like cookin' and cleaning up and payin' bills." I thought about Soda dropping out to work at the DX full time. I felt a bit guilty, I got to keep most of my wages, Ma seemed to do okay on whatever compensation had come our way after Dad died. I remembered what she'd said about the Curtis boys.

"My mom knew their mom. I never knew that 'til just recently."

His face softened a little. "She was okay, Mrs C." He smiled at some memory or other. "Yeah, she was cool."

I shivered a little and he pulled me to stand and wrapped his arms around me. "You wanna go back to the car?" I nodded.

"Good, 'cause I'mma get neck ache kissing you standing up all the time."

I punched him on the arm. Boy, he had muscles. "You don't have to kiss me at all, if it's that much of a problem!"

"Kinda do." He smirked. Doing so.

"Yeah, well," I continued, when he let me up for air, "you can leave the wisecracks to Mathews, if you know what's good for ya..."

We got back in the car. It wasn't much warmer, to be honest. He did his best to heat things up. I stopped him eventually. He didn't seem too upset. He'd accepted it the other night too. I wasn't used to that, after the way Ricky behaved. A little part of me wondered if Steve was just hanging on for the dance on Friday. Third date's the charm, right?

XXXXX

"You sure you ain't got a curfew?" Steve asked as he pulled up outside my house, all the lights off again. I shook my head. "That 'cause you're working now?"

I shook my head again. I never did quite get over having to explain how things were. "Ma don't care about stuff like curfews." And she'd forget if she ever did set one.

"Ain't your dad at home?"

"Died when I was three."

"Oh." He seemed stuck for something to say. "No step dad?"

I took a deep breath. "Nah. My mom is...kinda out of it. She don't leave the house now, so... me 'n Sarah got used to doin' our own thing."

"Ever? She don't leave the house _ever_?" He sounded curious, not judgemental.

"Nope. Takes a bunch of pills and shit. Spends all day watchin' TV." I shrugged, it always sounded weirder when I had to explain. "She never got over my dad dying. Just got worse and worse."

"Shit." He whistled.

"It ain't so bad. Like I said, I do my own thing. She ain't even been up to my room in five years."

His eyes lit up. "Which one's yours?" He nodded at the windows. I laughed and pointed out there was only the one attic room in the apex of the roof. He squinted at the porch below.

"Don't go getting any ideas, Romeo! Even if you climb up, you ain't gettin' in that window, I'll lay money on it."

He looked disappointed. He'd get over it.

"Ain't _you_ got a curfew?" I turned the question back on him, "It being a school night 'n all." I'd teased him a little about still being in school.

His expression closed down. "I'm sleepin' on Soda's couch tonight. Darry's cool, long as I'm quiet goin' in."

"Why?" The question was out before I'd thought it through, _stupid_, it was none of my business.

Steve chewed his lip, looked at me sideways. "My old man likes the place to himself." His voice was quiet but his tone was bitter. He didn't mention his mom and I didn't ask.

* * *

So... one ex explained...but what about Ricky...? And it's about time we heard from Sylvia again...

Reviews/PMs gratefully accepted!


	7. Chapter 7

A quick update? I know, I surprised myself. :)

* * *

"Hey, hey, hey, what news from the Lollipop Guild?" Two-Bit greeted me, as we walked up the steps of the club, to find him lounging in the doorway. He tossed his cigarette butt into the street.

"Oh, yeah, they did have a message for ya," I shot back. "Said to tell ya to watch out, the bounty went up on Sasquatch skins." I stroked my face, as if I had sideburns.

He smiled widely and winked at Steve. "I'mma take this one right off ya, Randle, see if I don't."

"You couldn't handle me, Mathews." I beamed, blowing him a kiss. I barely remembered why I'd been nervous of him at school. This was the second gig where we'd followed this band, plus I'd seen him a bunch of times in between. Seems if you were dating one of the gang, you got to hang with them all at some point. Soda and Steve were virtually inseparable and no matter where we went, they'd all bump into each other. We made sure to finish nights on our own, though.

Steve was shaking with silent laughter as he tightened his arm around me. We saw the others and the three of us headed across the room.

Sodapop and Sandy had to be forced to notice we'd arrived. They weren't even necking really, just cooing in each other's ears, with eyes for nobody else. Dallas, who was sitting next to Soda, got his attention by flicking Soda's ear. We all watched in silence as he got closer and closer, in slow motion, his face concentrating and fingers poised. Soda wasn't even aware of his hand until he exploded into a sharp flick at the last possible second.

Soda yelped and lashed out backwards with his fist, but Dallas ducked it easily. As soon as he realized we were all laughing, Soda relaxed and laughed at himself.

"The rest of 'em's here," Dallas said, like that wasn't now obvious. I scooted around to the seat next to Sandy and Steve followed. Two-Bit started looking around the room. Then he held his hand out for contributions towards drinks, collecting money from the guys before heading out into the crowd again.

The band was louder than they had been last time, I thought, and they were going pretty good. Lots of kids were dancing. I was tapping my leg in time with the song and Steve looked at me like a man on borrowed time. He knew I'd want to dance at some point.

"Did ya decide what to do next week?" Soda asked Steve. "I can get us in to the next club these guys got booked, but we don't got to...s'up to you."

"What's special about next week?" Sandy asked.

Steve pulled a face, answering Soda not Sandy. "I don't care either way. Cook out at yours, same as last year, is fine by me."

"Aw, live a little, Randle." Dallas interjected. "How 'bout we head over to the Slash J, put some money on a few ponies, really get ripped."

Steve looked more interested.

"What's next week?" Sandy repeated, nudging Sodapop.

"Steve's birthday." He grinned. I turned and stared at Steve. He hadn't said a word to me.

"Yeah," Dallas agreed. "An' I vote we go stag. We ain't cut loose for a while." He grinned wolfishly.

Sylvia, who'd been listening to all this quietly, began chewing on his ear, whispering to him. He let her for a little while, then he grabbed her hand, where it had slipped under the table onto his lap and he pulled away from her mouth. "Ain't that the truth, sugar..." He laughed in response to whatever she'd been saying. "But I still wanna a boys' night." Sylvia pouted.

"Well, why don't we have a girls' night at the same time?" Sandy piped up. "Evie, we can go to yours, can't we?" I hoped my dislike of this idea was plain on my face, but she carried on and on about what a good idea it was. Soda and Dallas seemed to take this as a done deal and when Two-Bit reappeared with a tray it was presented to him as fact.

"Two-Bit, you failed Math again?" Steve queried, passing out drinks for those of us at the table. "You forgot one."

"Huh? Oh, no. I left mine at the bar." He smiled mysteriously, "I'm gonna wander back that way... So, Friday, yeah? I'm in." And he strolled off.

Steve and Soda caught each other's eye. "Blonde!" They said in unison. Everyone laughed.

When the others were talking to each other again, I turned to Steve. "You never said." I looked at him, curiously. He shrugged, sipping his drink.

"No big deal."

I shrugged right back at him. I was a bit taken aback. We'd seen a lot of each other over the last couple of weeks. Apparently, the subject of birthdays had never come up. Steve put his drink down and nudged me.

"You wanna dance?" he said quietly. I wasn't going to say no to this unexpected offer. I paused when I realized the band were attempting their cover of 'Don't Worry Baby' again. No way he remembered, or even noticed, but it made me smile.

Steve pulled me quite a ways from the table and held me close. Really close. I could hear him talk, even though his voice stayed quiet.

"So. This guys' night out Dally has planned, it'll be Friday, yeah? You wanna go out Thursday?"

I said yes. Why wouldn't I? Pretty sure I'd said yes to every time he'd asked so far.

"Good. 'Cause it's on Thursday. My birthday. We'll go out, just us, huh?"

The song had switched into something more upbeat, but he was still keeping me close against him. He kissed me more thoroughly. I was smiling inside something fierce. I didn't really feel second best to the guys before, but it felt a lot better to know I got to be with him on his actual birthday.

XXX

Dallas had booze. I thought they were stricter on the door at these clubs, but he had it. He sloshed it around our glasses. I didn't like whisky as much as vodka, it overpowered the Coke more. But it was better than nothing. We were having a good time.

I followed Sandy to the bathroom and Sylvia tagged along. I could have done with the chance to talk to Sandy alone, but obviously Sylvia had other ideas. I could have done without her scrutinising me as I retouched my make up, too.

Sylvia had no way of knowing if I knew about her and Steve. I was watching for hints that she was trying to find out, but so far she'd been as pleasant this evening as I'd ever known her.

I should maybe have worried that the evening was going so well.

As we headed back to the table, giggling over something filthy Sylvia had just said, she stopped dead and I nearly ran in to her.

I watched as her face hardened and she narrowed her eyes.

"The fuck _she_ thinks she's doin'?" She hissed.

There were several girls at our table. Two were sitting in either side of Soda, you could see their eyelashes fluttering from where we were. He was lounging with his arms on the backs of their chairs, smiling. Another one was standing where my chair had been, talking to Steve. He had his chair pushed way back and his arms folded over his chest. He looked a little bored, I was pleased to note.

I assumed Sylvia's wrath was directed at the brunette girl in front of Dallas. She was half sitting back on the table, right in front of him, so that his legs were either side of her as he grinned up at her. I couldn't see how she'd got there without squeezing right by him. As we watched, she leaned towards him laughing, giving him a view down her top.

Sylvia stalked across the distance to the table, with us in her wake.

Steve smiled at me. Sodapop had the grace to look a little guilty. Dallas didn't take his eyes off the new girl.

"I think you'll find that seat is taken." Sandy snapped loudly, yanking the chair out from under the girl on the near side of Soda. Whatever Sandy's face looked like, I don't know, but the girl had enough sense to book it, her friend close behind.

Steve reached out and pulled me onto his lap and the girl standing up melted away with the others.

"Friend of yours?" I asked casually.

He smirked and said, "Who?" in a fake innocent tone. But he kissed me.

Soda had been talking to Sandy quietly and, to my immense surprise, she burst into tears and ran off. Soda looked stunned, like he'd been slapped. Then he leaped up and ran after her.

In the few seconds it had taken for this to happen, Sylvia had got to screaming pitch.

The brunette was standing her ground. "I didn't see him complain'," she drawled.

"I ain't talkin' about him, bitch, I'm talkin' about you!" Sylvia's eyes were spitting hate.

"Who you callin' 'bitch', skank ?" They degenerated into variations on the same theme. Dallas sat there, a look of amusement on his face as he watched them yelling at each other. He only moved when Sylvia reached out for a glass and threw the contents over the brunette. And even then he only scooted backwards, so as not to get splashed.

The girl froze for a second in disbelief, then she slapped Sylvia. Sylvia threw both her arms up to grab the girl's hair, or drag her to the floor, I wasn't sure, but she didn't get the chance, because _now _Dallas moved. He grabbed Sylvia from behind, pinning her upper arms down and lifted her up and away. She struggled, but when he put her down to the other side, she stayed put.

Dallas shrugged at the brunette, "See ya around sometime, baby doll." He winked at her, turning back to Sylvia just in time to catch her arm before she hit him. He wrapped his other arm around her and kissed her hard, until she finally relaxed and he let go the hand that she'd been going to hit him with.

The brunette stalked off, cussing loudly about her ruined dress.

I looked at Steve and he looked at me.

"Glory," he said quietly, so only I could hear. "I hope Judy Milton isn't here. Three for three might be too much for one night..." He couldn't quite keep a straight face.

"I don't have a friggin' vendetta against Judy Milton in particular!" I objected. Sandy had told them all about Judy calling me white trash, but I didn't think he knew that it had been her comments about him that got me riled in the first place.

"Oh, you take on _anyone_ who pisses you off?" he teased. "Lucky Amanda spilt just now, huh?"

"_Amanda?_ That lanky piece that was coming on to you? I'll get her back, if you prefer, get Two-Bit to walk me home..." I attempted to stand up but he held me back.

"Evie, chill. _I'm_ takin' you home and Aman...whatever her name was, can go jump in the Arkansas. " He kissed me. So that was okay.

"Anyway." I added, after a little while, "I could take _Amanda_, with one arm tied behind my back."

"Easily." He nodded, smiling. We looked around a bit, there was no sign of Sodapop and Sandy. Dallas and Sylvia were practically horizontal across their seats, so they hadn't noticed.

"Maybe I should go look for Sandy?" I suggested, although, honestly I was very cosy where I was. Steve must have felt the same because he pulled a face and shook his head.

"Soda'll have found her, I reckon. He'll tell her there was nothin' to it, those broads were just chancing it...he really likes her, ya know."

"Does he?" I thought about Sandy's grand plan. Maybe things would work out her way. Steve nodded.

"Never seen him so into a chick, he talks about her all the time. Watches the clock for her to come by the station after school. Ain't seen him this happy since his folks...y'know."

"Is he still seeing other girls?" I figured I ought to check. For Sandy.

"Nah. He's not really into two-timin', just scores a lot of one nighters. He ain't usually bothered to stick to one girl...until now."

_Wow_. She really was taking him off the market. Steve looked at me closely.

"Why you askin'? Sandy think he's playin' around?"

"No," I told him, "I was just curious."

"How 'bout me? You curious about me? Think I'd play around on you?" His eyes looked darker than usual in the club lighting, really serious. I smiled inside long before my lips curved.

"No, I don't think you would..."

"Well, we ain't said yet...if this is, like, a steady thing..." He was biting his lip, "...I mean...if you want..." As usual, he got tongue tied when he was defensive.

I nodded, feeling like I might burst. "Yeah. If you want..."

Steve opened his mouth to reply, but before he did so an angry voice exploded from the other side of the table.

"Hey, you the fucker who trashed my sister's dress?"

A heavy set guy, looking too old for this club, kicked Dallas's chair. Dally sprang apart from Sylvia, finding his feet just in time for the guy to shove him. Sylvia scrambled back, around towards us.

"Huh, fucker? You think it's smart to throw drinks?" The guy reached for a glass and launched it towards Dallas. Dallas batted it away, the drink splashing both of them, the glass bouncing on the floor.

Steve growled and stood up, depositing me to the side. The guy had several buddies with him and a couple of girls, including the brunette, were behind them. She was smirking at Sylvia, who glared back.

"It was me, asshole, not him!" Sylvia announced, "An' I'll do it again, if your whore of a sister comes on to my guy again..."

The guy's eyes went wide. He looked from Sylvia to Dallas. "Someone needs to teach that broad a lesson. Do it for ya, shall I? After I take care of you...?"

"You wanna try?" Dallas dropped into an aggressive pose, beckoning the guy on.

"Shit." Steve swore quietly, "Evie, go find Two-Bit." He walked around behind Dallas, not looking back at me.

I shot towards the bar. Two-Bit was leaning at the end, talking to a very pretty, very blonde, barmaid. I grabbed his arm.

"Hey, sweetie, s'up?" He grinned.

_Oh, glory, don't let him be blitzed. _"Trouble. Dallas. Steve said for you to come..."

He was gone before I'd finished the words. I followed as fast as I could. The crowd was already moving towards the fight.

* * *

Cliff...hanger... sorry :)

Please review, maybe I'll be quick again...


	8. Chapter 8

I arrived back at our table in time to see Steve pitch forwards, in what looked to me like a football tackle, ramming one of the guy's friends out of the way. They hit the floor, scattering the kids around them. No one nearby was dancing any more, they were all watching, catcalling and craning to get a good view.

Dallas and the big guy were trading punches, Dallas bouncing back and ducking as much as he was landing hits. He was obviously quicker than the other one, who was still bellowing threats as he swung. I swear Dallas was laughing.

Two-Bit was acting like a wall, keeping the last two henchmen at bay from the main fight, alternating kicks and shoves that kept them falling back in turn. I saw him take a punch to the jaw that snapped him sideways, but he sprang back with a determined grin and sent the guy down with a punch of his own.

The idiot that Steve was fighting had an attack of cowardice and scrabbled away from him, dragging on the one Two-Bit had just floored, who also booked it. I realised why when I saw the crowd start to part, the faces looking back in excitement and alarm at new arrivals. _Shit._

I leaped in as Steve got to his feet, panting, and I yanked him sideways, pushing him hard into the crowd behind me, before he knew what was happening. Kids crowded forwards and closed the gap around him. I turned back to see Two-Bit take the last guy down, with a swift elbow to his gut.

I yelled his name and he looked at me in surprise, his mind still on the fight. I took his hand and pulled, with all my strength, walking backwards quickly, in between the nearest bystanders.

As the cops arrived at the front of the crowd, I elbowed Two-Bit behind me and used the hand I was holding to pull his arm around me. I hoped to God it looked like we were part of the crowd of onlookers, just another couple, watching. I could feel him catching his breath, trying to look casual as he sucked in air.

There was nothing I could do about Dallas. The cops had to pull him and the heavy set guy apart.

Sylvia was yelling and cussing and it looked like the cops were going to take her in too. She probably shouldn't have tried to hit the one holding onto Dallas.

The crowd started to break up and we drifted backwards, watching as Dallas and the other guy were cuffed and dragged away. They didn't cuff Sylvia, but she was definitely accompanying them and not because she wanted to.

"Holy crap, Evie," Two-Bit said quietly. He stretched his jaw gingerly. "You might be the smartest chick I ever met. Hell, you might be enough to make me swear off blondes!"

"Keep your hands to yourself, Mathews," Steve growled. We turned to see him holding a wad of bloody napkins to his nose. Thank God the cops didn't see him, it would have been obvious he'd been in the fight. I dropped Two-Bit's hand and hugged Steve. He winced, twisting his head away. "Careful," he grouched, but he put his free arm around me.

Two-Bit grinned. "Soda's gonna be hacked he missed all that. Where's he at, anyway?" We brought him up to speed and the three of us decided to ditch the rest of the evening and get out of the club, although we waited for the cops to clear out first. I noticed Two-Bit leaned over the bar to speak to the girl serving there as we headed out. Pretty sure he got her number.

As we went down the steps, we saw Sodapop and Sandy at the corner of the street. He had one hand on her waist, the other one stroking her cheek as he tried to get her to look up at him. Their body language was clear; he was apologising and she was making him work for it. We came up on them in time to hear the last of it.

"But do you mean it?" Sandy's voice was shaky.

"Sure I do, baby, I _really_ do." He sounded kind of desperate to me. I didn't think I ever wanted to hear that tone in Steve's voice. Didn't seem likely, somehow.

She gave him a watery smile and his expression cleared to one of relief. Two-Bit coughed theatrically.

Soda looked at us in surprise. "What y'all doin' out here?"

"Man, are you kiddin? Did you not just see the fuzz haulin' in Dallas and Sylvia?" Two-Bit exclaimed. Soda looked up the road as if the police cruisers would reappear now that he was concentrating. He noticed Steve's red nose, mainly because Steve kept pressing the back of his hand to it, although it had stopped bleeding.

"What'd I miss?" Soda asked, like he hadn't gotten cake at a party. Steve and Two-Bit started offering their versions of the scuffle. I was over it already, to be honest. And I hadn't gotten much chance to dance.

Sandy slid her hand into Soda's. "I think I should go home now." She sniffed, prettily. Even bawling just made look fragile, not messy. Not something I could pull off.

"What? No! I mean, we'll all head back, but I don't want you to go yet!" Soda's attention was right back on her.

She smiled at him, like he'd just offered her a million bucks, like his response was the only thing that mattered in her world. "Well, if you're sure, Soda..." Her blue eyes were holding him fast.

We started walking. As we did so, Sandy managed to turn so that only I was in her line of sight. She winked at me and gave a fleeting grin of victory, then she tucked Soda's arm around her shoulders, molding herself to him.

XXXXX

Dallas came out of the cooler the next day with a temper like a wet cat and a busted lip that he hadn't had when he'd got in the cop car. Never did say how he came by it.

Sylvia had just got a lecture and a ride home. She apologised sweetly and the cop dealing with her was feeling lenient. At least that was her story.

They were like two strands of poison ivy twisted around each other for twenty four hours. Then they started fighting again.

Sandy spent that Sunday afternoon confirming what Steve had told me. Sodapop was wrapped around her little finger so tight, she could have asked him to cut his hair off and he'd have said, 'How short?' Her combination of teasing and rewarding was driving him insane and he couldn't get enough of her. I wondered once again how he didn't see through her. I assumed he wasn't telling the other guys exactly what was going on. Surely one of them - Steve most likely – would have told him to quit letting her play him.

Guys talked, I knew that. But I wondered if they told the truth. Maybe they all assumed they were getting more than they really were. Like the socy types assumed we were flat on the back seat every time we got in a car, just because we had short skirts and we weren't afraid to laugh.

Sandy had wanted Soda for a long time and she undoubtedly liked him, so if he was okay with doing things her way, who was I to judge?

I didn't think I was in a strong position to call her on it. Steve was being patient, but he was a guy after all, he was bound to want to go further than I'd let him so far. Maybe if he told Soda that about me, he'd be advised that_ I_ was playing _him_. That thought pulled me up short.

Despite Sylvia's involvement now, I'd been friends with Sandy for a long time. My first instinct would always be to be on her side. And so it should.

I wouldn't expect any different from Steve and Soda.

XXXXX

"_Well, what the hell d'ya wanna see?" _

The evening wasn't going well and I didn't know why not.

He seemed pleased with the torque wrench I'd given him for his birthday. I'd asked Sodapop what would be a good present. Well, I'd asked Sandy to ask Sodapop. Apparently this particular brand of wrench was the best thing ever invented. And Steve seemed to like it.

Maybe he didn't like the bow I put on it. But, really, how the hell do you wrap a wrench?

He said he liked the cookies. But thinking about it, I wasn't sure.

I wasn't real good at baking and I knew if I needed a cake to rise, it just damn well wouldn't. Cookies, though, those I could do. So I made cookies in the shape of the letters in his name. I didn't have enough mix for the whole 'Happy Birthday'. The E's were a little crooked, but it was still obvious what they said. They were done just in time, still warm.

I gave him the present and the plate of cookies when I climbed in the car. He laughed at the cookies, but in a good way, as if he was pleased. I asked if he liked them.

"Who doesn't like cookies?" he said, leaning across to kiss me. It was kind of a quick kiss, because he pulled away from me.

We drove out to a diner, he was real quiet. I tried to talk about my day but he didn't seem to be listening. And then we got in an argument because I said I wanted to buy him dinner, my treat, for his birthday. He wouldn't let me. I said he was being ridiculous, I was working full time and he wasn't, plus he was using all his money to pay off the Chevy.

"Yeah, 'bout that, I got that dough I was telling you about. She's pretty much paid for." His expression was thunderous, completely at odds with the idea of coming into a pile of cash.

"You got that much money, for your birthday?" I tried to clarify.

He smiled, bitterly. "My old man's idea of fatherly concern. Crack open your wallet with one hand, crack open a bottle with the other, 'See you later, Stevie boy'."

I didn't know what to say, so I stayed quiet. I let him pay for the food and we headed back to the car in silence.

We'd been planning on going to the movies. The fact I didn't have a preference was apparently irritating him.

"_Well, what the hell d'ya wanna see?" _

I was very close to telling him 'not you' and walking home. He flung himself into the car and immediately opened the window all the way, muttering about the smell of the cookies. Who doesn't like cookies, right?_ Yeah, right._

So now we were driving aimlessly, because we hadn't picked one of the drive-ins or the movie theatre or anywhere else.

"Steve." I had to say it twice before he heard. "Take me home, you still got time to go to Soda's, hang with them." He looked at me, shock all over his face. He wrenched the wheel over and pulled up. We were near the middle school, on a quiet block.

Steve leaned his forearms on the steering wheel, exhaling slowly.

"I don't like birthdays," he said carefully.

"No shit? Remind me to stay away from you when mine comes around," I snapped. He blinked at me, surprised.

"Not other people's...just mine. Makes me...kind of..."

"..an asshole?" I finished for him.

He bit his lip. "Yeah." I figured that was the closest he was coming to an apology.

"Well, glory, you didn't have to ask me out. You coulda just gone to Soda's."

"I'll be there later anyway. I wanted to see you."

He had a fine way of showing it..._wait._ "You're sleeping at Soda's? Tonight? On your birthday?" He didn't answer. "Because you want to? Or because your dad..?"

In the month we'd been dating, I'd caught on that whatever Steve's dad's problem was, it came around frequently and he ended up sleeping over at the Curtis house. But on his birthday? Even when Ma was on a real downer, she tried to make birthdays special. I mean, we had to buy the gifts she wanted to give, but we had to do that at Christmas too. Sarah did mine and I did hers. But Ma made a cake for me last time. She forgot it was in the oven, so it was kind of burnt, but she tried. She nearly always remembered the right date.

Steve chewed on his lip. "Look, it don't matter. I'll take you home."

"I don't wanna go home now."

He gritted his teeth. "Evie! You are the most..." He stopped when he saw the warning look in my eye. "Start over?" he asked abruptly.

"Yeah." I reached for the plate of cookies. "Ditch these first..."

"No." He grabbed the plate from me. "I like cookies. I really like _name_ cookies, see..." He crammed one in his mouth. "Mm, tastes like 'S'"

"It was 'T'," I said, laughing at the mess he was making. He swallowed the final bite.

"I like that you made 'em," he said. "I just don't like the smell of 'em baking." Possibly the weirdest dislike I had ever heard. _Oh..._

I eased over next to him. "Start over," I agreed.

He kissed me. I guess I didn't smell like cookies baking anymore, because this time he didn't pull away so fast. Or in fact, at all.

I was never going to want to be like Dallas and Sylvia, but maybe there was something to be said for 'kissing and making up'.

* * *

Thank you to everyone, reviews make all the difference. Plus they make me go back and change errors – tell me when I get things wrong, this is Tulsa, not London!


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer:I do not own.

* * *

They were half crocked when they arrived. Luckily, I got them upstairs without Ma even seeing them. Whether she'd have noticed the state they were in, I wasn't sure, but I wasn't taking chances.

I was mighty pissed with Sandy about this whole thing, despite having had a good ending to my evening with Steve on the previous night. No way in Hell I'd have invited Sylvia to my place if Sandy hadn't suggested it right in front of the guys. She made it sound so reasonable, such an obvious thing to do while they went over to the Slash J for a boys' night.

Even after things ended disastrously at the club, the plans for tonight were holding.

Sandy flopped on the bed, like she always did, and picked up a magazine from the night stand. Sylvia began looking through the things hanging in my closet.

"This is hip." She held my new dress against herself, then she smirked. "I'd borrow it if it wasn't kid sized!"

"Screw you." I took the hanger and shoved it back on the rail. It was a knock off of a really sharp dress I'd seen in a magazine, worn by you-know-who in a photo shoot on Carnaby Street. I was saving it for something special.

Sylvia admired herself in my mirror, wiggling her tits. "Hell, I couldn't get _one_ of these in your gear, darlin'."

"Ain't got 'em in _yours_, most of the time, is what I hear," I sniped.

"Be nice, Evie," Sandy warned but Sylvia just laughed and started poking around my make up. I gave up policing her and sat on the end of the bed.

Sandy poured vodka into the glasses I'd put ready, topping it with a half inch of Pepsi. "To Freedom...for tonight," she said, lifting her glass in a toast.

"Tonight and whenever," Sylvia added, a significant glance passing between them.

"What's that mean?" I queried.

Sylvia shrugged. "Oh, y'know. Just that if the guys are doing their own thing, havin' a regular girls' night too is a good idea." They smiled at each other again.

I drank up angrily. Let them have their pissy little secrets. I poured myself another to catch them up and downed that too.

"Is Sarah still tryin' to do your hair?" Sandy asked, explaining to Sylvia about Sarah and beauty school. Sylvia's eyes lit up.

"She got any stuff we can 'borrow'?" she asked, bumming a weed from Sandy.

I told her no. I told her Sarah never brought anything back, too square to lift any samples.

"Too square all round." Sandy smirked.

"Aw, she's okay." _There I went, defending her again, the hell? _"She did a practice run on my make up last week an' it wasn't bad."

"Shoot," Sylvia said, blowing smoke towards the ceiling from where she was now stretched out on the floor."You don't need her, you got the steadiest hand I seen for eyeliner." The nicest thing she'd ever said to me. Possibly the only nice thing.

"Oh, my good God." Sandy found a new picture of that guy from 'My Three Sons' who she'd been crushing on for years, holding it up for us to see. "He is so cute!"

Sylvia looked at her sideways. "If you think about _him_ when you're with Soda, that's just perverse, seeing as how everyone else is thinkin' about _Soda_ when they're with their guy..."

Sandy threw the magazine at her. Sylvia caught it one handed and said, "Thanks, I ain't read it yet!" They laughed like it was the funniest thing ever said. Sandy picked up a second magazine.

"You speaking for yourself, Sylvia?" I asked slyly. "When you're with Dallas, you thinking about Soda?" I could have bitten my tongue, realizing a second too late that she could twist this conversation somewhere I didn't want it to go. Guess the vodka was kicking in. _Shit._

Sylvia looked at me with narrowed eyes, speaking slowly."Actually, I ain't thinkin' about _anyone_ in a DX shirt, no..." Her tone was laden with meaning. I held her gaze steadily. She couldn't be sure I knew about her and Steve. She smiled. "Dallas is plenty to think about on his own, if ya know what I mean." Sandy giggled as Sylvia wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"You don't even seem to like him, most of the time. Else why d'ya cheat on him?" _Glory, I needed to shut up, what was wrong with me?_

Sylvia stretched lazily. "You're talkin' two different things, darlin'. Cheating on Dally ain't got nothin' to do with 'liking' him. Christ, we ain't Romeo and fuckin' Juliet!" She laughed harshly. "I go with Dally because he's top of this turf. Same as if I went with someone from Shepard's outfit, it'd be Tim Shepard himself, not one of his boys."

I stared at her.

"What else should I do? Wait to turn into some goddamn housewife? How's that working out in your house?" _I hated her_. She rolled right on. "Don't look too good in mine, I can tell ya. A girls' gotta find a guy that gives her position, some kind of status. Go with the power is what works. The ones on the side are just for fun." Again with the look, assessing if I knew.

I absorbed what she was saying. Apart from the fact that I didn't think Dallas _was _tougher than Steve, which is what she was implying, I thought about the way that she graded them to make her choice.

"But you can't be with someone just for _what_ they are," I protested.

"What else is there?" She looked at me as if I were talking Chinese, "What's the point if you don't get something back? If someone's got position, why the hell wouldn't ya want some of it too?" She shook her head. "Sandy gets it, she's holdin' onto Curtis, ain't she?"

"Fuckin' right, I am," Sandy piped up, only following the part of the conversation that concerned her.

"She likes him!" I objected on her behalf.

"_An' she likes that other girls like him_. That gets her one over on them, don't it? Pushes her up the power ladder. Makes her important."

"But you think she should ditch him if someone better comes along?"

Sylvia shrugged, meaning yes. "You do the best you can with what you got. Don't mean you can't keep an eye out for better..."

"But you fight with Dallas all the time. Ain't you worried you'll drive him away?"

She laughed bitterly. "Fighting's all he knows, darlin'. That's what keeps him sharp. 'Sides..." She looked at me carefully. "I get away with more _because_ he's like that. Think about it, a guy'd have to be plumb crazy to let Dallas know he'd been with me. You know what Dally'd do. Most of 'em are cowards, at the end of the day."

I felt myself getting mad. I glanced at Sandy. She was unaware of the hidden meaning in Sylvia's words. When I looked back at Sylvia, she had a knowing smile dancing at the corners of her mouth. I bit my tongue. Literally. I held my tongue between my teeth until the impulse to snap at her, to tell her that Steve was not a coward, but that she was a first class bitch, died down.

She leafed through the magazine, for all the world as if we'd been chatting about the weather or something equally unimportant. She was beautiful, in a hard, sharp way, like a diamond.

"You wouldn't trade Randle for some candyass, an' don't say ya would. You wouldn't wanna be out some time and a guy not be able to defend ya." _Damn, but she was right about about me liking the fact that he was tough, still, it wasn't just that, I wasn't like her..._

"I wouldn't cheat on him!" I shot back.

"Aw, ain't you sweet." Her voice was condescending. "Think he's the same, do ya?"

"Well, he ain't the same as Dallas!" I spat.

"They're all the same, darlin'. Hell, Dally's probably bangin' some stupid broad at Buck's right now. Like I care."

"They're at the Slash J!"

"You sure about that? You _sure_ they're all watching the pretty horses tonight?"

"Leave it, Sylvia," Sandy said, "stop buggin' her. She ain't the same. An' she likes Steve, so quit it."

I glared at Sandy. She had to know that when I'd said 'don't tell anyone' I was talking specifically about Sylvia. _Damn._

Sylvia closed her eyes, apparently bored with the whole conversation.

"Hell, tell me something that ain't ain't obvious. 'Bout as sickening as the way Pepsiboy drools over you, darlin', the way her an' Randle are all over each other." _What the hell? We were not!_

"He don't drool over me!" Sandy objected. "He's just very...keen..." Her indignation dissolved into giggles. "He's got beautiful hands, don'tcha think?"

"It ain't what they look like, it's what he does with 'em, that counts..." Sylvia started seriously but ended up laughing. "How 'bout Randle, Evie? He has a rep for being good with his hands..." The malice she'd been barely concealing was gone, she was laughing at me, sure, but she was no longer shooting me threatening glances.

Somehow it got to be two in the morning. I blame the vodka.

Somehow we were still on speaking terms. I have no explanation for that.

We were all dozing by that point. Sandy and I at opposite ends of the bed, Sylvia on the floor, after she'd wheedled a pillow out of Sandy.

Sandy slept over regularly enough, but I was loathe to let Sylvia think it was going to be an option for her. Unfortunately, I couldn't let even Sylvia wander the streets alone at this time of night.

It wasn't exactly quiet in my neighbourhood. At any given time there would be dogs barking, people yelling, doors slamming; plus the railroad in the background and a pretty constant hum of traffic.

And yet, I heard their voices quite clearly. Hard not to, given the fact that they were singing an explicitly filthy version of 'Louie Louie'. At least I think that's what it was, it was kind of hard to tell because they each had a slightly different tune going.

Sylvia's eyes snapped open.

One of my neighbors yelled, "Shut up, ya lousy hoods!" But I was pretty sure it would have been from the safety of their window. Just as well, given the colourful response from Dallas, involving a physically impossible suggestion.

Sylvia, having nudged Sandy fully awake, was using my mirror and, I noticed, my hairbrush.

There was a loud thud, as a rock bounced off the porch roof, followed by raucous laughter.

"Christ Alive! What the hell you aimin' for, Randle? That was nowhere near the friggin' window!" Dallas scoffed loudly.

"Woulda broke the damn glass if you'd hit it, I said _little _rocks, idiot!" Soda's voice added. Steve's answer to both of them was a variation on Dallas's earlier anatomical proposal to my neighbour. They all laughed loudly.

I threw up the blind and Sylvia joined me as I opened the window.

"Hey, sugar, come down, gimme some sugar," Dallas called up, laughing at his own pitiful wordplay. I noticed he wasn't wearing his leather jacket, but it looked like Steve had it on.

They were weaving around the front yard, catching each other from falling when they bumped into one another and then making the wobbling worse by playful pushes that seemed less than playful on occasion.

"What the hell y'all doin' here?" Sylvia screeched, despite my effort to quieten her down.

"Missed ya!" Soda announced, arms as wide as his grin.

"Well, that's just groovy, baby," Sylvia drawled, with a wink at me.

He frowned, concentrating. "Not you! Sandy!"

Sandy shoved between us, although there was barely room for the three of us to look out.

"Sandy!" Soda yelled, delighted. "Come outside, baby, I missed ya!"

"Why would we wanna come down to you stinkin' drunks?" Sylvia teased.

"I ain't drunk." Soda objected. "Look!" He began to walk, one foot deliberately in front of the other. Dallas stuck his own foot in front and Soda sprawled full length on the scrubby grass.

"Fuck," he said, without getting up.

Sylvia scooted backwards off the bed and headed for the door.

"You ain't goin' down there?" Sandy asked. "They're blitzed."

"Aw, I seen 'em worse. An' it's better'n sleeping on Evie's floor!"

Sandy and I stared at the door where she'd been for at least two seconds before we followed her.

All the lights were off downstairs, of course. Ma and Sarah would have been in bed for hours. Their doors were shut. I flicked on the porch light and we opened the front door. Dallas was right there, holding up the porch corner post and Sylvia immediately flung herself at him.

Sandy dashed over to where Soda was still lying face down on the ground. He resisted her turning him over until she started to sound worried, repeating his name. Then he rolled onto his back, pulling her with him, greeting her with a delighted, "Hey, baby!" Sandy squealed, making him laugh even more, as he held her tight while she tried to get up.

Steve looked at me, shaking his head at their antics. I waited for him, leaning in the doorway.

He was almost steady as he walked over, although he tripped slightly on the porch step. He kissed me hello, leaning his left arm on the doorframe, keeping the other hand tucked in the jacket pocket.

"Mm, nice," I said, sarcastically. "What have you been drinkin'?"

"What ain't I been drinkin'?" He grinned, looking mighty proud of himself.

"Did ya have a good night?" I was amused. He nodded. Soda let out a deep, dirty laugh as he groped Sandy, making her squeal again. "Get him up," I told Steve, "before one of the neighbours calls the fuzz!"

"Curtis, get the fuck up!" Dallas snapped over his shoulder, pulling away from kissing Sylvia for a second. Steve went over and pulled Soda up one handed, causing them both to stumble. Sandy pulled her skirt down, not very effectively.

"Can we come in, or what?" Dallas looked at the door behind me.

"Yeah, I'm cold," Soda said, wrapping Sandy in a hug from behind.

Steve came back to me. "We'll be real quiet." He hissed, in a loud imitation of a whisper.

"Okay, okay, five minutes, but you better be," I warned. I was very aware that I'd never hear the end of it if we woke Sarah. Ma would be out of it, no way she forgot those particular pills, but Sarah would delight in another reason to tell me how I wasn't behaving decently.

As they trooped into the front room, I shut the door behind us and switched on the table lamp. Steve bagged us one end of the couch. I sat on his lap and I asked him why he was wearing Dallas's jacket

"Yeah, Randle, why _are_ ya wearin' my jacket?" Dallas queried slyly, as he and Sylvia got cosy in the armchair. Steve scowled at him.

"Fuck, where's Two-Bit?" Soda sat up suddenly, from where he'd slumped at the other end of the couch. Dallas and Steve snorted with laughter.

"We left him at Buck's, moron!" Dallas sneered. Sylvia gave me a pointed look. _Screw her._

"Oh, yeah." Soda relaxed, tucking his arm back around Sandy. She pouted. "I was real good, baby." He grinned cheekily. "Ask any of 'em." He waved his free arm to indicate Dallas and Steve. "I was thinkin' _only _'bout _you_. _All night_." He looked a little surprised himself. "Hell, I really was!" He folded her into a tight embrace, his hand snaking up inside her shirt.

"Didn't y'all go to the Slash J?" I asked.

"We went. Did okay, too, huh, Randle? Won you some money, didn't ya?" Dallas sounded devious, but he didn't get the chance to elaborate because Sylvia was hell bent on kissing him to death.

"Did ya?" I asked, pleased for him. "Gonna get that radio?"

Steve shook his head, but smiled. "Spent it already. We had a real good time, it was cool." He was playing with the last button on the front of my top. I swatted him on the shoulder after a while, before he twisted it right off. He flinched more than I would have expected.

As we cuddled, I was getting sleepy and I reminded them all that _some_ of us had to go to work in the morning. Dallas and Sylvia stood up, preparing to wander back to Buck's. I was unclear if Dallas actually lived there permanently, but he seemed to use it often enough to have his own room.

"Gimme my jacket," he demanded, holding out his hand impatiently. Steve blinked, I wondered if he'd been falling asleep. Soda looked up, tried to get Steve's attention by kicking him. I stood up to let Steve take off the jacket.

"Steve," Soda said urgently. Steve ignored him, shrugging off the leather jacket and tossing it across to Dallas, who draped it over Sylvia's shoulders and headed for the door.

"Steve!"

Steve finally looked at Soda. Soda indicated that I was now looking at Steve's arm. More precisely at the bandage on his upper right arm. Dallas snickered, waiting on my reaction.

"Oh, yeah," Steve said."So I won this dough on a race. An' Two-Bit said, _let's go to Buck's_. An' there was this guy there, who knew a guy... An' I got a tattoo."

* * *

Inspiration via ThePreachingNarwhal who wondered what Steve would get up to on his birthday, if alcohol was involved. This was a day later, but I think it counts!

Reviews make me smile - and write!


	10. Chapter 10

Marian took one look at me and boosted the coffee machine. I apologized for being late.

"Your sleepover get out of hand?" she queried.

"Don't call it _that_, I'm not twelve! But, yeah, kinda. The guys rolled around after their boys' night and it was, I dunno, three a.m. before I got rid of them."

I felt like I'd gotten all of five minutes sleep. It had taken Sandy what seemed like hours to convince Soda to go and then she'd yakked for ages about how tuff he was, how good he kissed, how much she was looking forward to showing him off when we went out next. She was like a kid with a new toy. Steve hadn't exactly objected to Soda delaying things. I'd had to shut the door in their faces, in the end.

"Aw, did Steve not have a good time without ya?" She handed me a cup and motioned expectantly for my news.

"Oh, he had a fine ol' time!" I pulled a face.

"How come?"

"He got blitzed an' got a tattoo."

"Ooh, where?"

"I dunno, some guy he met at Buck's did it. Ya know it? The roadhouse out on..." I stopped, because she was cracked up, laughing at me.

"No, Sweet Pea, where _on his body_?" she gasped.

I giggled at my own idiocy. "Oh. Here, on his arm." I showed her. "Some kind of eagle."

Marian nodded sagely. "Cool. I once dated a sailor with a tiger going from here to...here..." She drew a line right across her body. I never knew whether to believe all of her stories. According to her she'd dated guys from every state, in every shape and size possible.

"Well, I think guys get to be idiots when they're drunk," I said, heading out to the front.

"They're always idiots, Sweet Pea, the drink just makes it easier to see!"

XXX

Steve picked me up from home, looking about as tired as I felt. I'd had the chance to shower and redo my makeup. He had dark circles under his eyes and, to be honest he still looked hung over. Served him right, I thought. His arm was kind of red around the tattoo and he had to keep stopping himself from rubbing it. He said it was a good sign that it itched. I just hoped he'd kept it clean at work.

It did look tuff, though.

It looked a hell of a lot better than the home made shit I'd seen scratched on some people's hands and arms.

We swung by The Dingo, Steve promising me that it was only for a little while, he just had to see someone about parts for the Two-Ten. Within seconds of us pulling in, I saw Soda's golden head turn towards us. He loped over, with his kid brother and Johnny Cade trailing him.

"Hey." Soda smiled."You heard from Sandy?" I had not. I got out and listened as he explained she wasn't feeling well and had cancelled their date. He seemed okay about it. I think she'd told him she had a sick headache. I figured it was her time of the month, I knew she had a rough time with it.

I felt a twinge of guilt for being pleased that we could ditch the whole 'Saturday night double date' scene for the first time in the month we'd been going together. _When_ Steve got around to returning.

Digging in his pocket for change, Soda sent Ponyboy inside to fetch me a Coke, since Steve had left me without anything and it was quicker than waiting on the service. At this time of the evening, the waitresses were run off their feet. Cars were pulling in and out all around us, as we stood and chatted. The place was buzzing, people wandering between cars and shouting across to others.

"How'd ya like Steve's tattoo, Evie?"

I was surprised. I think it was the first time Johnny ever spoke directly to me. I said I liked it fine.

He smiled shyly and nodded. "I think it's tuff. I'd like one myself."

"Me too." Ponyboy returned, shoving a cup at me without ceremony. I rescued the straw just as it tipped out.

"Man, I can just see Darry's face, if you came home with a tattoo!" Soda laughed out loud, shoving Ponyboy playfully. "He'd about kill ya!"

"I'mma get one if I want." Ponyboy's face set into a stubborn expression. "He ain't the boss of me."

"He kinda is, Pony," Soda said reasonably. "Sides, why would ya? I was gonna, when Steve did, but I couldn't make up my mind what to get. The guy said that was a bad sign. What if you changed your mind after it was done?"

"I wouldn't." Ponyboy mumbled, kicking the front tire a few times.

"Quit that, kid!" Steve snapped, reappearing on the other side of the car. "How d'ya like it if I come over an' kick you?"

Ponyboy scowled impressively, but he moved slightly closer to Soda. Over his shoulder I noticed the car sliding into one of the spaces behind, a two tone Impala with darkened windows.

I shoved my drink at Johnny, who was nearest. "Here, you have this. We're going, right Steve?" I dived into the car, hunkering down without trying to be obvious about it.

I could see Soda goggling meaningfully at Steve. "Well, I guess we'll see ya around, _right Stev_e_?_" He grinned and made a whipping gesture. I winced. Hadn't meant it like that.

Steve mouthed _Fuck off_ at Soda, but he got in and turned the engine over.

He looked across at me, as I kept my head turned away from the side window. "The hell are ya doin'?"

"Can we just go, please?"

Out on the street he tried again. "_Where _do ya wanna go?"

"The park? The lake? I don't care, just not there."

XXXXX

It wasn't all the way dark when we reached the lake. At least we had our pick of places to park. There was mist over the water, threading between the trees, making the whole area look slightly unreal.

"What's the matter with you?" Steve growled. "You ain't said two words since we left The Dingo."

I swallowed. "Sorry."

He waited me out.

"Someone I didn't wanna see, is all." _Leave it._

"Who?" he narrowed his eyes.

"Don't even know if it was him. Looked like his car, maybe."

"Whose car?" _Damn, he wasn't going to leave it._

"Just some lowlife, worthless piece of shit I used to know."

"Some 'lowlife, worthless piece of shit' I should be worried about?" His voice was quiet but determined.

I shook my head.

"Hellava a description for someone who don't matter." _Smart boy._

I couldn't quite meet his eye.

"This the guy who's been in jail?"

_What the...? Where did that come from? _He must have seen the shock on my face. I certainly didn't say anything. Couldn't say anything.

Steve nodded like he'd confirmed something to himself. "Sandy asked Soda a lot of questions about me, when you an' me started goin' around." I started to feel uneasy. Steve gave me one of his half smiles, maybe he wasn't comfortable himself. "She said she didn't want you dating another asshole. Wanted to be sure I wouldn't hurt ya." He bit his lip. "Figured it wasn't McIntyre, the way you talked about him teaching you to drive. Figured it was the guy she said was inside."

And all this coming through both Sandy and Sodapop to Steve. A regular gossip circle. _Shit. Why the hell would she tell them about Ricky?_

I was outside and walking over to the water's edge before I knew what I was doing.

"Hey! Evie." Steve caught up to me. "_Evie_. Wait."

"I don't appreciate y'all discussing me behind my back! Sandy had no fuckin' right shooting her mouth off. It ain't nobody's business but mine."

"She was just lookin' out for you."

"Well, she don't need to!" I was still mad.

"Not any more, no," Steve agreed quietly. "I got it covered, now."

_Oh._ I stared at him. All my anger evaporated into the mist. I let him wrap me in a hug.

"This bastard _hurt_ ya, Evie?" _Ah, damn. No, no, no. Don't ask me that._

"Can we not? He ain't worth talking about. I was just a little freaked to see his car."

"Want me to head back to The Dingo an' stomp him?"

"No!" I was pretty sure he could take Ricky, but I didn't want to find out. I'd just as soon Ricky stayed on his own turf and then I'd never have to see him again.

"Good. 'Cause I'm beat. Some other time, then." Steve teased. I hoped he was teasing anyway. I pretended to be cold, but when we got back to the car, I opened the back door.

"Evie, we don't have to." _See_, this was why I didn't want him to know about Ricky. I didn't want him to treat me different, didn't want him to be weird about it.

"Don't have to, ain't gonna, Randle. You're gettin' ahead of yourself, boy." I pulled a face at him. But I still got in the back.

XXX

There must have been a real bright moon that night because I could see his hand clearly as I played with his fingers, twisting them in my own. He lay there quite happily, along on the back seat, just letting me hold his hand up for inspection. Amazing what a make out session can do to mellow the mood.

I smiled as I remembered the night of the school dance when I'd objected to Judy Milton commenting on his hands being dirty. It seemed strange that we hadn't been together then. I could hardly remember what it was like, not to have this safe feeling, curled against him, my head on his chest, his other arm tight around me.

True enough, there was oil ingrained in his knuckles. I kissed them to make a point to Judy, in my mind. His fingers were rough in places, with nicks and scrapes most of the time. I wondered about the largest scar, a pinkish line, fading to white, that snaked around from the base of his thumb to the back of his hand.

I didn't ask. In our neighbourhood, people don't always want to talk about their scars. But he realized I was tracing it with my finger.

"Held off four Socs with a busted bottle," he said, in a careless tone.

"Bastards. I hope you showed 'em." I was proud of him.

"Nah, I was lucky, Darry was drivin' home an' saw what was goin' down."

"But you got into it?" I was sure he would have.

"They took one look at him coming to join in, an' they lit out."

"Don't tell me that! I wanna hear that you kicked their asses," I razzed him.

"I was shit scared, to tell you the truth. I mean, four of 'em..."

I realized later that he'd told me that honestly, without the bravado that these stories usually involved. But at the time, I asked if one of them had pulled a blade on him, as I traced the scar again, kissing it.

He shook his head, ruefully. "My hand was shakin' so much, I cut myself on the bottle when I threw it after them." I lifted up my head to see his face, to see if he was kidding me. He wasn't.

Now he was laughing at me. "You look disappointed. Would ya rather it was a battle scar? I got those too." He started to lift up his t shirt. I swatted his hand. "Honest to God," he smiled. "Look, Tim Shepard broke my collar bone in grade school." He yanked the neck of his t shirt down. "The great PB&J rumble, they called it, on account of him takin' everyone's lunch..."

I started laughing. "You're an idiot." I kissed the scar on his collarbone.

"Got my nose broke once in a fight, s'why it fuckin' bleeds so much..."

I kissed his nose.

"Busted my lip _loads_ of times," he said hopefully. What was I going to do? When we finished kissing, he smiled slyly, and made to undo his belt buckle. "I been kicked in the in the balls more'n once..."

I cocked an eyebrow."Nice try, Randle."

He admitted defeat gracefully, pulling me over to lie on top of him and looping his arms around me, stroking my back. I rested my head on his shoulder. It should have been more uncomfortable, squashed on that seat, trying to give our legs enough room, but somehow it felt like the best place to be in the world. Warm. Safe.

That's why I did something I'd never done before. Said something I'd never said.

Told him I loved him.

And immediately regretted it, because he froze. Didn't even breathe. _Shit._

"Jeez, did I just frighten you more than them Socs?" I tried to laugh it off. He swallowed and gave a short laugh, but it sounded like he was forcing himself to do it.

"Don't sweat it, baby," I told him. "I ain't turnin' into one of those clingy types. You ain't obliged to say it back." _Stupid. I am stupid._

"I, er..." I could practically hear his brain turning over, as he tried to work out what to say. "It ain't that I don't...dig...I mean...we're together, y'know that."

"I know that." I did know that. I could trust him. Hadn't he proved that tonight? Glory, he was happy to lie here cuddling, without pressuring me. That ought to be enough to prove he was one of the good guys. I wanted that to be enough. I kissed him to show that me talking like an idiot wasn't going to change anything between us. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

XXXXX

I wasn't asleep, quite. I'd been home about two hours so it must have been past three a.m. but every time I closed my eyes, I kept thinking. Worrying. Hearing the conversation that was going to start next time I saw Steve, the one that would end with 'You're dumped.' Because I'd gone too far, scared him off. _What was wrong with my goddamn mouth, why didn't I think first?_

Eventually, I put my light on and flicked through a magazine, although that wasn't really distracting me either. I guess I got a little dozy, though. Then I heard a noise.

At first, I thought there must be a bird or maybe a rat on the roof. Then I realized. Stones on the window? Again? At least it wasn't a huge rock like last time.

I pulled up the blind and opened the window, leaning out.

"Evie?" His voice was like one of those stage whispers, louder than really talking.

"Are you crazy?" I hissed. "What are you doin' here at this time?"

He stepped into the rectangle of light thrown down from my window. He stuck his hands deep into his front pockets, hunching as he peered up at me, pulling a face like he was embarrassed.

"Evie..."

"Yeah?" I prompted eventually, after the pause went on and on.

"What you said..."

_Oh, shit, here it comes_. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. What you said..." He started backing away, down to the sidewalk. "Me too."

I cursed the broken street light that meant I couldn't watch him walk away.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Don't own. (You knew that!)

* * *

We'd started to notice a couple of things. The places we went to had mostly been the usual greaser hang-outs; The Dingo, the park, the DQ on our side of town. Now they were the only places. Some of the others, like Jay's over on The Ribbon, were okay before, but now they were turning into Soc-only areas. It began to feel like 'our side of town' was getting smaller. Like someone was trying to redraw the lines that kept us and the Socs apart, tightening the noose around the North side.

We'd become careful about keeping to our own territory when we went out, and I heard from Sandy that things were bad at school, people were needling each other for no reason. I worried about Steve, although I knew perfectly well that he could use his fists to get out of anything. Since Dallas was picked up by the fuzz at the dance, none of the other guys had been in a full on fight. But it felt like it was always just around the corner.

The other thing we noticed was how much trouble Dallas was getting into. He'd always had a rep a mile long, since I'd first heard his name, but now he couldn't seem to go a week without being questioned over something. And it wasn't even related to the tensions on the street. It wasn't even always his fault. But he was the one they hauled in first.

After two months together, I was used to Steve's moods. I knew that if he was tense and snappy when he picked me up, it was a night when he was going to have to bunk down at the Curtis house. Then the evening would go one of two ways. Either he would pick an argument with someone – maybe he'd be given the wrong change, or some kid would walk too close to his car – and he'd blow his top and then be okay, or he'd spend the evening sulking and hardly speaking. If it was the second, I'd try to ditch the others early and get him up to the lake. That generally got him in a better mood. Guys are easy to turn around if you turn them on.

I wasn't frightened of his temper, he never took it out on me. Sodapop and I seemed to be immune. But I hated to see him get worked up over nothing. Wherever we went, the fuzz were just always there. I didn't want Steve to get caught up in anything while the cops were on the alert. I thanked God that Ricky seemed to have disappeared again.

We still went out in a crowd most of the time. It seemed so obvious that Sandy preferred to be seen in public with Soda. I couldn't work out how he didn't see it. If she wasn't at his house, with his brothers there, she was convincing him to go places with Steve and me, or with Sylvia and Dallas. I, on the other hand, gritted my teeth through the constant double dating and spent the whole time looking forward to the nights when it was just the two of us.

There was a pattern now, weekends with the gang and weeknights just us. If we didn't have a date, Steve would come by sometimes, after an evening shift, just to sit with me for half an hour on the porch. He still wasn't comfortable about the L word, not when I said it and not when he skirted around it. But we were good together. He divided his free time between the car and me. I could live with that. I learned to recognise the sound of that engine from a block away.

That night, we hadn't arranged anything and I didn't hear the Chevy, so I was surprised to suddenly hear a knock on the back door, when I was cleaning up in the kitchen, and see him through the screen. It was past eleven, way later than I would normally expect him.

"No car, baby?" I smiled, opening the door.

He looked confused, like he had to think about the answer; his mind had obviously been elsewhere. "Nah, it's on the ramp at work..." He looked towards the hallway door as he came in. "Your mom around?"

I shook my head, looking at him closely. "Gone to bed, her and Sarah. What's up?" It had been warm for spring, during the day, but it was cold to be walking around now.

He didn't say anything, he seemed to be concentrating on breathing, eyes on the floor, the walls, anywhere but me. I noticed a rusty stain on the front of his DX shirt. Another on the shoulder. I frowned. "Steve? Baby, are you hurt?"

He dragged his eyes to where I was pointing. "It's not mine. It's...Johnny's...Johnny got jumped. Bad." When he finally looked at me, I could see it wasn't lack of vocabulary that was stopping him explaining more. His eyes were brimming. He was holding off from blinking, so the tears wouldn't spill.

I put my arms around him and he held me so tight I thought he might collapse on me. I was worried I wouldn't be able to hold him up. Instead, he sank into a kitchen chair and pulled me onto his lap, burying his head in my shoulder. I held onto him, stroking the hair at the back of his neck, where it curled into a ducktail. After a few minutes, he looked at me and I saw he was back in control.

"How bad?" I asked quietly. "Is he okay?"

Steve grimaced. "They cut him up...his face was...there was a lot of blood. Soda and me carried him to their house. I couldn't stay. I just started walkin' around, didn't even know I was here until I saw your door."

"Who did it?" Although I was pretty sure I knew what the answer would be.

"Fuckin' Socs." He clenched his fist where it rested on my leg, tensing up, his face clouding over. "We gotta get those bastards."

"Does he know who they were?"

"Yeah. He knows. He ain't talkin' much, but he knows."

I kissed him because I couldn't stand to see the bleak expression in his eyes any longer and because I was so glad it wasn't his blood on his shirt, wasn't his face cut up. I held him and kissed him over and over. Even so, he broke off and spoke again, his voice tight with anger.

"We gotta get 'em, gotta show 'em they can't come onto our turf and beat on one of our guys like this."

"Okay, baby, you'll show 'em." I kissed him some more. I wanted to distract him, not from Johnny, not from caring about what happened to Johnny, but from going out and finding the fight he was planning. If there was going to be a fight, I wanted it fair and square, the whole gang behind Steve, not just him, gunning for the first group of Socs he came across. I wanted it as safe as it could be.

This time it worked, I thought. He got into the kiss and his fist unclenched and his arms went around me again.

But then he stopped me and said he was going back to Sodapop's house.

I bit my lip. I did not want him walking around alone out there tonight. I felt sick when I thought how jokey we'd been about the time he'd had to face those four Socs with just a bottle to defend himself.

"Take off your boots," I told him, indicating at the battered work boots he had on. He looked at me blankly. I stood up and held out my hand as I went towards the door into the hall. "Take off your boots and walk real quiet on the stairs. Mind the third step, it squeaks." He followed my instructions blindly and I led him upstairs, shutting the bedroom door quietly but firmly.

He surveyed my little room as if it was some kind of Martian spaceship, his eyes sweeping over the makeup and brushes and hair spray all over the dresser top. He poked at my favourite automatic mascara. "What _is_ all this shit?"

I figured it was a rhetorical question. But then he peered at my collection of false lashes. "Is that why you look different tonight?" He looked at me carefully. _Hellfire, I'd taken a shower when I'd got in from work and I hadn't reapplied eyeliner or anything. _He'd never seen me without full makeup.

"Guess you're seeing the real me." I tried to laugh it off, but I was dying a little. "Scary, huh?"

"Nah, you look...I like seeing _you_." Almost a full compliment, I'd take that.

He looked around some more, pulled a face at the posters on the walls.

"What the hell's so special about _him_?" he grouched, nodding at Paul Newman. I smiled.

"A girl can dream," I teased, sitting cross legged on the bed. "Who's on your wall?"

He shrugged. "Don't think she's got a name. Just a rip where the staples were in her belly."

"Oh, nice, tore her out of a skin mag? That's real classy." I pretended to be disgusted. But he was smiling and I was glad about that.

"We oughta soak that shirt, get the blood out," I told him. He looked down at the stains again and a sick look passed over his face. He pulled the shirt off and balled it up, tossing it on the floor in disgust. His tattoo stood out clearly now, fully healed.

"Forget it, they get covered in all kinds of crap." It sounded like he was trying to convince himself it wasn't an issue. I wasn't really listening. I was concentrating on being completely cool about the fact that he was now half naked. In my bedroom. _Shit, I didn't really think this through. Story of my life._

"Just so you know..." I said firmly, as he climbed on the bed next to me, pulling me into his arms, pulling me to lie down."...this is just more sensible than you walkin' back to Soda's at this time of night. We ain't gonna...Steve!" He'd been working his way inside my shirt, kissing my neck. "You listenin' to me?"

"Uh huh," he said, reluctantly, his fingers running up and down my side. I held them still, staring him out. "Okay, okay," he smiled ruefully, withdrawing his hand and laying back on the pillows. I pulled the faded patchwork quilt that I used as a comforter over both of us and stretched across him to put out the bedside lamp.

"Glory, Evie, you ain't making it easy." His voice was muffled because I was leaning on him.

I chuckled, rolling back but tucking under his arm this time. He cuddled me against him, but it was comfortable, not like he was making a move. Whether he was being restrained or he was just tired, or sad, I wasn't sure. My eyes were trying to adjust to the dark. I was trying to adjust to the feeling of him, lying in my bed.

He yawned. "I ain't stupid, ya know."

"That's kind of open to debate," I said, lazily taking the cheap shot.

"I know you don't want me looking for a fight tonight." _Okay, maybe not so stupid._ "But we gotta stop this shit some time soon. If you'd seen Johnny...if you'd seen him..." His voice was getting tight again.

I put my hand up to his cheek, then curved it round to smooth his hair at the back of his neck again. "I hear ya, Steve, baby. I do. You'll get 'em. But not tonight. Stay here, with me, huh?" _Stay safe, with me._

"I ain't gonna be able to sleep with fuckin' Paul Newman lookin' at me," he grouched, drowsily.

"Okay, baby. Don't sleep then," I said softly, smoothing his hair. Waiting until he drifted off.

XXXXX

Did I sleep at all? Between the completely irrational worry that Ma would decide to visit my room and the far more real fear that he would leave and walk off looking for trouble, I spent most of the night waking up again as soon as my eyes closed.

On top of that was the _feeling_ of him there. The touch of his skin, the warmth of him, the smell of him. He moved in his sleep, edging against me, shifting his leg along mine, rolling so that his arm went across me. There was no part of me that wasn't aware of him.

Plus, it's uncomfortable sleeping in your clothes. Yeah, that was it.

When my eyes sprang open for about the hundredth time, I realized it was starting to get light. Around the edges of the blind, that greyish light that filters into the proper morning was starting to show. I stretched my neck and squinted to see my alarm clock in the half light. Four forty five.

I looked at Steve. He was across most of the pillow, almost face down, his arm flung across me. I let my eyes travel slowly down his back, taking in the curves of his shoulder blade and the muscles bunching under the skin. I touched his spine gently, tracing the vertebrae down as far as the waistband of his jeans. He shifted slightly, rolling a little. Now I could see his side, his ribs, his stomach muscles. He caught my hand in his, as I stroked the line where his hip bone disappeared into his jeans.

"Evie," he whispered in a resigned tone, without opening his eyes. "Don't start nothing you don't wanna finish..."

The fact that he would sleep in my bed and still not push it, if I didn't want to, made me want to cry, absurdly. I put my hand flat on his stomach and kissed him. His eyes opened.

"I just said..."

"I heard you." I kissed him again.

The third time he asked me if I was sure, I laughed and asked if he was _trying_ to change my mind. He didn't ask again.

XXXXX

I was in a little bubble of happiness. Everything about the world seemed right. My world, at least. I hadn't forgotten about Johnny, or the possibility of some serious repercussions between the guys and the Socs. But _my _world, the bubble around me and Steve, that was going groovy.

It burst.

It burst after we'd tiptoed down the stairs – 'Mind the third one,' he winked – and right about when he stopped in front of me in the kitchen doorway. I peered around him. Sarah was leaning against the sink, a cup of coffee in her hand.

"Morning," Steve said levelly, real casual.

Sarah looked at the boots in his hand, his shirt hanging open, then back at his face. "Morning." She didn't sound quite so casual. She twitched her bathrobe around her, although she was wrapped up as tight as a goddamn mummy anyway.

I tried to remember the last time I'd seen Sarah at six a.m. She normally stayed in bed until the last possible second before she would be officially late. Why she would be up so early, I had no clue. The hell it had to be today.

Steve glanced at me, pulled out a chair and sat to pull on his boots. I went over to the cabinet, reaching for coffee cups. One look from Sarah told me that wasn't happening.

I turned back to Steve, who was now standing again and buttoning his filthy, crumpled shirt.

"Listen," he started.

"See ya later, Steve." Sarah's face was as calm as her voice. She sipped her coffee.

He looked like he was going to say something, then thought better of it. He paused as he pushed open the back door. "Call ya later." He smiled. And even with Sarah right there, my heart flipped a little.

"What in heaven's name do ya think you're doing?" She let all of a second pass before she started in on me.

"Aw, lighten up." _Now_ I was having that coffee. I was pretty sure my hand was steady as I poured it.

"You can't be serious. How many of the neighbours do ya think just saw him leave? What are they gonna think?"

"Who gives a damn?" I snapped. "Unless you're worried they'll think he stayed in _your _room?"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure they can tell which of us is the slut, by the way you dress every time you leave the house!"

I took offence at that. I particularly took offence because I was currently wearing what I had just discovered was Steve's favourite top of mine.

_Pulling on something to go downstairs in, I'd reached for a blue sweater to wear but Steve had said, without turning around from the mirror, where he was combing his hair carefully, 'Where's the pink one you had on the other day?' When I put in on, he grinned. 'You're pretty tuff, ya know that?' _

I didn't get a chance to respond because Sarah just rolled right along.

"You're out of your mind, Evie, why you wastin' time on a no good.."

"He ain't a 'no good' anything!" I jumped in.

"He's a greaser, one small step up from a hood an' you know it."

"He ain't nothin' like a hood! He's still in school, Sarah, he's real smart. An' he has a job..."

"You better hope he was _real smart_ last night," she cut across me, "do you think boys like him stick around when they get girls in trouble?"

"Shut up. That ain't gonna happen." She was not going to take what went on between me and Steve and make it dirty.

"It _happens_, Evie, wise up! It happened to...someone I was at school with. She was a nice girl, she was just unlucky and her whole life fell apart. I ain't stupid, I've seen how you are around him, I know how you feel. But it ain't worth the risk."

_How I was around him? S_he'd met him to say hello to, once! I thought about all the times I'd sat on our porch with Steve. All the times I'd run out to meet him when he picked me up. If that was when she'd seen me, she didn't know the half of it. _And how I felt?_ How could her stupid, square Tony make her feel anything like I did when Steve smiled at me? Or when he kissed me? Or when he held me like he'd held me this morning, afterwards.

I could see she thought she had my best interests at heart. But she had no idea.

* * *

Aw,guess Evie really is in love then...

Reviewers/readers, thank you! Please keep letting me know what's working/not, that way we'll all be happy :)


	12. Chapter 12

I was on the bus going to work when I saw her. The usual faces were yawning and sighing around me. Some snarl up with the traffic held us for ages, right by the junction with Sylvia's street. People started clicking their teeth and checking their watches, concerned about being late. Marian would believe me that it was the bus's fault, so I wasn't worried.

As I stared out the window, a police cruiser pulled up a little ways along. I realized it was just down from Sylvia's house and Sylvia herself was climbing out.

There was no way Dallas, or Sylvia herself for that matter, would have been out at this time in the morning, so it had to mean that they'd been picked up again last night. I wondered what the hell they'd been up to this time.

Whatever it had been, Sylvia obviously hadn't been chastened by another run in with the law. She sashayed up the sidewalk in her stilettos, for all the world as if a cab had just dropped her home.

I knew many people would think I had it easy, what with Ma not noticing what time I got in and shit like that. The kind of people who didn't think the rest of it through, that is.

But Sylvia swore it wasn't an issue in her house either. Claimed the first time she came home in a cop car, her old man simply laughed and claimed, 'Full house, kings over queens,' because she was the last one in her family to do so. I wondered whether he'd be so unconcerned if she'd had a fine to pay this time. Presuming he wasn't in the cooler himself at the moment.

The cop car swung out past the bus, just as a gap appeared and we could have moved forward. I thought I recognized the cop from the night of the fight in the club that time. But who knows, one uniform looks like all the others, right?

I smiled as a guy further up the bus cussed the cop for jumping in line.

XXX

Guess it wasn't my day for public transportation. The evening bus was late, too. As I waited, I watched the people going by. Some of them looked like late shoppers; smart shoes, bags from the stores in their manicured hands. Most looked like me, hurrying home from work, minds already on whatever they had planned for that night. I leaned on the wall near the stop.

A car went past, a shiny blue Sting Ray with the top down. The guy driving it looked me up and down as he went past slowly. Any other time I would have flipped him the bird, but not so near to work. Also, I was more on my guard just lately.

When I was at work, I felt like I was wearing a mask. I was sure that some of the boys who bought flowers for their mothers or their girls had to be the same ones who yelled obscene remarks when they saw me out with Steve. Maybe the mask worked both ways, maybe I wasn't a random greaser girl when I was dressed for work, when they saw me out of context.

I always felt like the Socy types were just waiting lately. It was like a game to them, but it didn't feel like that from our side.

They shouted at us from their cars and they cruised our turf to do it, too. Never going by anywhere busy, like The Dingo, lousy cowards, but if it was just one or two couples on the street they'd be dumping their filthy comments on us and then speeding away before Steve or one of the others could reach the car. I knew that they didn't really know me, but it didn't make the things they said any less awful.

I was pulled out of my daydream as the Sting Ray trawled past the line again. It had to be the same one, the same guy sleazing over me. He slowed to a crawl, then hit the brakes and offered me a ride. I ignored him. He offered me a selection of things I could do for him. I told him to get lost in no uncertain terms and I walked away from the bus stop a little. He put the car into reverse, leaning back over the seat, but just as he began to move, a red T-bird screamed to a stop right behind him and he was forced to brake hard.

"Hey, sugar, you need a ride...or a pest exterminator?" Dallas hopped up on the back of the driver's seat, glaring at the Soc in the Sting Ray. The guy made as if to say something but Dallas lunged like he was going to dive over the windshield towards him and the next second the Sting Ray was speeding away.

"Ha! Fuckin' chicken-shit," Dallas crowed after him. He grinned at me. "Come on then, sugar, I ain't got all day."

I hesitated. But then I thought, what the hell? And I hopped in. He knew where I lived, after all, and it would beat waiting on the bus.

"What'd you 'n Sylvia get up to last night?" I thought back to what I'd seen that morning.

He shrugged. "I was workin' out a couple of Buck's ponies, didn't see her." He squinted across at me. "Why?"

Luckily, his inattention to the road caused him to swerve into the path of a pickup that blasted its horn, so I didn't have to answer. Dallas yelled a string of obscenities at the other driver and put his foot down, swinging the T-bird across the next lane.

"Jeez! I'd like to get home in one piece." I held on to the door with rather more grip than I needed to when Steve was driving. I liked to drive fast, but there's _fast and safe_ and _fast and dicing with death_. It occurred to me I hadn't asked whose car it was. Or why he was driving it.

"Have a little faith, sugar." He winked, sending us screeching around the next corner as the lights were changing to red. I wasn't entirely sure that he remembered my name. Calling all girls 'sugar' seemed like a way to get around having to differentiate them. Obviously, he didn't reserve it as an endearment for Sylvia.

I realized we were taking the wrong route to get to my house. In fact, we were heading down towards the warehouses alongside the rail tracks.

"Dallas, I thought you were giving me a ride home?" I objected. He nodded, pulling up next to an empty building with broken windows.

"Yep. Little bit of business first." He sprang out of the car as a lean figure detached itself from the shadows around the boarded up door, tossing a cigarette butt aside. I swallowed as I saw the scarred face come into view.

"Believe this was an invitational, Dal." Tim Shepard sent a meaningful look my way. Dallas shrugged.

"Takin' her home, is all. Figured you'd prefer I was on time."

"First time for everything, they say." Scorn ran through Tim's voice. It wasn't clear whether he was referring to me or to Dallas being on time.

"You want it, or not?"

Tim smiled, although it wasn't a smile you'd want greeting you in a dark alley. Dallas preceded him and popped the trunk open. They disappeared from view behind the red surface.

"Gimme two."

"Nah. Buck'll miss that much. Deal is what it is." I heard the clink of glass as something was removed from the trunk. I made sure I was looking forwards. I did not want to know what was going on. They were speaking quietly, maybe they thought I couldn't hear.

"You off Sylvia again?" Tim's tone was more conversational now.

Dallas snorted. "Nah, she's Randle's chick. Told ya, takin' her home. Fuckin' Soc was givin' her shit."

"DX Randle? Boy's got more taste than I figured him for." _The hell?_

"Too skinny up top." _Charming, Dallas, thanks._

"Man, I'd do her. Any more'n a handful's wasted anyways. " _Oh dear God, I did not just hear Tim Shepard talking about my tits. _I sat very still.

Dallas slammed the trunk down and in the mirror I saw him pocket whatever was folded in his hand. He dived back in the driver's seat and we roared away, raising a cloud of dust that nearly obscured Tim and the cardboard box on the ground by his feet. Obviously, farewells were as redundant as greetings in these situations.

"I figure you're smart enough to know you didn't see that." Dallas raised an eyebrow.

"See what?"

He grinned wolfishly.

Somehow I survived the rest of the ride. Couldn't say the same for my nerves. At one point Dallas took both hands off the wheel to demonstrate something about horse racing. I closed my eyes.

When we got to my street, my heart leaped as I saw the Chevy parked up, Steve leaning against the hood, smoking. Dallas let the T-bird skid to a stop.

"Hey, baby." I smiled as I hopped out of the car. "I didn't know you were comin' over."

Steve ground out his weed. "I can see that, " he snapped.

I'd been going to hug him, but I pulled up short at his tone. "What's that mean?"

"He means he don't trust ya in a car with me, sugar," Dallas drawled with amusement. I looked at Steve, expecting him to refute that ridiculous claim. He didn't say a word, just let his eyes rest on Dallas.

Dallas waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal at Steve. "You're welcome, you miserable fucker. Next time I'll leave your girl to get jumped by any passin' Soc."

I shook myself out of the shock that was keeping me quiet. "You better not!" I smiled at him. "I appreciate the ride, Dallas, thanks." I turned and walked towards the house without speaking to Steve. I heard Dallas laughing as the T-bird shot away.

"Evie!" Steve caught up to me on the porch. I stared him out. "I didn't mean...that..." he floundered.

"Oh? 'Cause seemed like Dallas had it down, to me." I snapped. "He gave me a ride home. What d'ya think was goin' on?"

He exhaled sharply. "What'd Dally mean about the Soc?"

"Oh, _now_ you're interested? Sure sounded like you were happy jumpin' to conclusions just now." I was so mad, I felt hot tears pricking my eyes. I opened the front door and stalked inside, slamming the screen in his face.

Unbelievably, he followed me into the hallway, catching me by the arm. "Evie, wait up!" he said at the same time as Ma's voice came from the front room.

I glared at Steve and fought to keep my voice level as I answered her. I yanked my arm away from him and told him to get the hell out, in as vicious a whisper as I could muster.

"Tell me what Dally meant." He hissed back.

"You tell me what you meant." I countered.

"I just know what Dally's like..."

"Thanks a lot. There were two of us in that car. Do you know what _I'm_ like?"

"Yeah. I do."

"So?"

"So...I don't think you'd do that. I mean, I _know _you wouldn't." He looked a little shamefaced. "Evie, I just..I dunno..." _God forbid, this boy should ever directly say the word 'sorry'._

I was running out of anger as I watched him struggle with his emotions. I realized it wasn't so much that he thought I _had _cheated, as that he was anxious I _would_. I put my hand up to his face. He looked relieved and leaned in to kiss me.

"Evie? Have you got company?" Ma's voice cut across the moment.

I gaped as Steve stepped back from me and strode into the front room before I could say anything. I threw myself through the door after him.

He stopped in front of the couch and stuck his hand out. "Hello, Mrs Munroe, I'm Steve Randle. I'm Evie's boyfriend."

Ma stared at him as she shook his hand. I couldn't remember the last time she'd met someone new. I held my breath as she dredged up the right thing to say.

"That your car I hear when Evie's going out?"

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"Well, I hope you drive careful?"

"Yes, ma'am." He sounded very sincere.

I tried to see Ma as a stranger would. She looked like a pale shadow of a person, I thought, although I didn't know if it was her sadness or her pills that really washed the life out of her.

"Randle...do I know your folks? I knew a Mary Randle once."

"Er...no. My mom's name wasn't Mary."

Ma was already looking past him, the next soap opera was starting. "Nice to meet you, Steve," she said absently. I wondered if she'd remember anything about him.

"You too, Mrs Munroe." He came back to me and we went back through to the kitchen.

"Why did you do that?" I demanded.

He shrugged. "Why not? Seemed like the right thing to do."

"Yeah, 'cause you're all about doin' the right thing, today," I scoffed.

"Hey!" He caught me in his arms. "I already said I got it wrong." _Barely._ He backed me against the wall, kissing me pretty thoroughly. Guess we were made up then.

"Drink?" I offered eventually. I grabbed some Pepsis. If Sarah did the shopping, there was Pepsi. If I did, there was Coke. I didn't actually care about the difference, but she did and I just liked to hack her off.

It was warm enough to sit on the back step. Took him about three minutes to ask about the Soc again.

"Aw, Dallas was makin' it more than it was. The guy was just a jerk, I've heard worse. I only took the ride because the bus was late."

"Yeah, well, I don't trust Dally no further'n I could throw him."

I nudged him with my elbow. "Yeah, but you could throw him pretty far..."

He smirked. "Have done, once or twice."

"Anyway, I ain't his type." I decided to keep my mouth firmly shut about how I knew that and especially about what Tim Shepard had said.

"An' that just proves what an idiot he is."

"An' a terrible driver," I added.

"An' he can't play pool for shit." We laughed over our list of Dallas Winston's shortcomings.

I had to go and spoil it. Again. My mouth has a life of its own , unconnected to my brain, I swear. Because I asked Steve, "Why did ya say your mom's name 'wasn't' Mary , not 'isn't'? She ain't dead, is she?"

He stiffened, his fingers tightening around the Coke bottle. "Might as well be."

"You never told me about her." I tried to defend my query.

"Nothin' to tell. Was here, then she wasn't."

"Is she married again, or something?"

Steve stood up abruptly, startling me. "Don't know, don't care." He paced a little way from the house. "Listen, I ain't been home yet. Come back for ya later, in time to go to the party, yeah?" He was gone before I could reply.

* * *

Oh, dear, the boy has issues...

As ever, let me know what you think :)

For anyone who's missing the gang, party time coming soon!


	13. Chapter 13

S.E. Hinton , owner etc.

* * *

I figured I had a couple of options regarding this evening.

I could engage Steve in a sulking battle. He'd effectively insulted me about my motives for being in the car with Dally. And he'd walked out on me. But, he'd sort of apologised and it was probably my own fault for bringing up the subject of his mom. That was obviously a touchy subject. I wasn't going to make more out of this than was necessary. I would rather see Steve happy again tonight.

So, option two. Smile and wear the new dress. I had enough time to dive in the shower just before Sarah got in. _Might _have let the water run a little longer than I really needed. I was still pissed with her for what she'd said about Steve. And I hadn't had the nerve to sneak him in again overnight, so I had her to blame for any less than comfortable moments in the back of the Chevy since then.

I was real careful with my makeup. Extra lashes, the whole works. The dress was worth it and so was Steve. I looked in the mirror and smiled. It was red, sleeveless and it fitted like a dream. I nearly kissed my friend Paula when I saw what she'd done. She was a real good dressmaker and she'd copied the magazine picture perfectly. It was the shortest dress I'd ever worn.

I hesitated between my white go go boots and a pair of patent stiletto pumps. I knew which would be sexier but I also knew which would be easier to walk home in and I wasn't sure if we'd need to. Depended how ripped everyone got.

Much as the guys loved their cars, plenty of times we still walked places, especially if there was a whole lot of us, or everyone who could drive was too out of it. Not because anyone cared about being picked up, just because they didn't want to risk the kind of dents that occur when you're too blitzed to park straight.

It was interesting to watch the guys out walking. Every time we passed a car parked up, Steve's eyes flicked to the hubs, the bodywork and the hood, in that order. If it was a real sweet model, his hands twitched as he imagined lifting the hood.

Two-Bit tilted his head further, looking inside the car without breaking his stride. It was highly unlikely that anyone in our neighborhood would leave anything worth lifting on display, but I guess he couldn't stop himself checking.

I saw Dallas key the side of a Buick once, for no reason at all. He didn't even know the owner.

Sodapop was as likely to climb on a car, for the pure joy of jumping off it, as he was to check it out. Especially if he'd been drinking. The first time he did a back flip like that, I nearly died laughing. Naturally, that led to an acrobatic competition between them all. Who knew? Two-Bit was surprisingly good at walking on his hands, even if his switchblade did fall out of his pocket and knock him on the head.

If there was a crowd of us, any passing Socs usually had the sense to leave it, drive past without making into something. More than one greaser was more than the lousy cowards could handle.

This party was in aid of Two-Bit's birthday. I'd found out it wasn't actually his birthday for a week or so, but Steve said Two-Bit usually treated the whole month of June as a celebration and this year was no exception.

I heard the Chevy come up the street. And I heard the driver's door slam. Steve didn't always come to the front door, mostly I was on my way out by the time he pulled up. Tonight, he was obviously playing at being gallant. I wondered if he felt guilty about leaving abruptly before.

He was hovering outside the screen door as I came down the stairs. He'd changed into clean jeans and a black shirt, which was about as dressed up as I'd ever seen him.

His eyes were all the reaction I needed, although it was kind of nice that he whistled and said, "Holy shit!" The heels were working then.

The moment was spoiled a bit, by Sarah coming into the hall and bitching at me that I hadn't put the water heater on, after using up all the hot water. _Whoops. _She glared at Steve for good measure.

He was oblivious to her though. He opened the screen door for me, his wide eyes matched by the sexiest grin as he looked me over. I yelled goodbye to Ma over my shoulder.

As we walked away, Sarah muttered, "Evie, that dress is..."

"Fuckin' dangerous." Steve finished, so only I could hear him.

"You like?" I teased, as he opened the car door for me. _Hell, he was on a roll with the chivalry stuff tonight_.

"Like?" He looked at my legs as I sat down real careful – and there's an art in that, I can tell you – "Baby, I'm having trouble walkin'. You wanna go up to the lake, instead?"

_Maybe not so gallant, after all._

"I do not. I wanna go to the party. Think I got dressed up like this just for your benefit?" I smiled at him cheekily though, as he swung into the driver's seat, so he knew that's exactly why I did it.

We swung by Soda's house first. He came out, leaping down the porch steps in one jump. He had a really white shirt on and I smiled as I wondered how long it would stay that way.

Soda scooted into the middle of the back, arms hanging over the front seats, as Steve took off again. We were heading to Sylvia's house, to pick up her and Sandy.

I'd surprised myself when Sandy had called and said she was going over there, to get ready. I wasn't as jealous as I would have been a couple of months ago. I still wasn't Sylvia's biggest fan but I was getting used to her. And, honestly, when it came to the way they talked about Dallas and Soda, they were better off alone. I couldn't sit comfortably and listen to them run the guys down. And I had nothing to contribute.

"Did Two-Bit persuade Johnny to come?" Steve asked. Twice. He glanced in the rear-view, then over his shoulder quickly. Then he reached back and slapped Soda on the head.

Soda squawked and lashed back reflexively. But he stopped looking at my legs. "Huh?"

Steve asked about Johnny for the third time.

"Oh. Nah. He ain't feeling in the party mood. He's gonna hang at ours, watch TV with Pony."

I wasn't sure Johnny had been out at night at all since he was jumped in the lot. I hadn't seen him. I felt bad for him.

Steve sounded the horn outside Sylvia's house. Several dogs started barking. Soda climbed out as they came down the path. They looked smoking hot; Sandy was wearing a skirt I'd never seen before - which I figured to be Sylvia's – and Sylvia had plenty of cleavage on show. But then she had a lot to work with.

Sandy kissed Soda enthusiastically as Sylvia slid into the car.

"Hey, you're wearin' it!" Sylvia greeted me, the alcohol on her breath giving the lie to the idea that vodka is undetectable. "Looks cool." I thanked her. I might not love her, but I got manners.

Steve barked at Soda to hurry up, so we could get going. Sandy giggled as they joined us and they were immediately all over each other again.

When we pulled up outside Buck's place, I saw the red T-bird parked outside. Well, I'd already put that particular two and two together. I tried to ignore the fact that Dallas had casually involved me in whatever scam he had going with Buck's bootleg liquor delivery.

Sylvia darted inside ahead of us. As we reached the steps, Steve looked back, expecting to talk to Soda. What we saw was a flash of his white shirt in the back window as he dived horizontally, presumably onto Sandy.

"Dear God, he's gotta get his own car," Steve muttered in an exasperated tone. I smoothed my dress down. Stepping up to the door had reminded me how short it actually was. Steve grabbed my hand as we went in.

It was hard to know what hit harder, the hot atmosphere, laden with smoke of all kinds, or the noise of everyone struggling to make themselves heard over the music. The laughter and the clink of glasses was like sprinkles on top of the main sundae.

Two-Bit was holding court on a bar stool, his back to the bar and a beer in each hand. He had a blonde on both sides, although from the dirty looks they were giving each other I wasn't convinced that was going to end as well as he might have hoped. Whatever story he'd been telling, it provoked a howl of laughter from the people around him.

His face lit up when he saw us and he waved us over, his beer bottle tilting dangerously in the air.

"Hot damn, Jiminy, you look good enough to eat!" He leered at me.

"You can look after your own conscience, real boy." I tweaked his nose. "'Sides, don't think there ever was _'I'm no fool with beer'_."

"See." He grinned. "That's what's been missing in my life, a little guidance regardin' appropriate alcohol consumption levels."

Steve had rustled up a couple of beers for us and I took mine, saluting Two-Bit.

"If you can still string those words together, I'd say you're fine." I smiled. Two-Bit blew me a kiss, at which point Steve steered me towards a table on the other side of the room.

Dallas was tilting his chair back towards the wall, with his feet up on the table. Sylvia stood next to him, although she was chatting animatedly to a couple of girls I didn't recognise, seemingly ignoring Dallas's arm around her hips. I wondered if he'd fall off his chair if she suddenly decided to walk away.

We pulled a couple of spare chairs up to the table.

Steve regarded Dallas. Dallas regarded Steve.

"How's it hangin', man?"

"It's hangin'. Where's Curtis at?"

"He's around."

Whether that constituted _'Sorry, I accused you of feeling up my girl'_ and _'That's okay'_, in guy speak, I could only speculate. They didn't seem inclined to kill each other any time soon.

The girls talking to Sylvia wandered off and she turned around. Dallas snapped his chair down onto four legs, pulling her onto his lap.

"Are you done yakkin', or what?" he asked, investigating her cleavage with his eyes and her thigh with his hand.

"Aw, darlin', you feelin' neglected?" Her voice sounded far less sympathetic than the words would have suggested.

"Night's early, yet." He smiled roguishly.

"You ain't even bought me a drink."

Dallas scowled and dug in his pocket, almost dislodging her as he shifted his hips to reach for the bill he then held out. Sylvia looked at him in disbelief.

"What? I gotta pay for it _and_ fetch it?" he griped. She snatched the money from his hand and stalked off towards the bar. Dallas grinned at her back and lit up a cigarette.

The door opened and Sandy and Soda came in, arms around each other. He looked mighty pleased with himself. I noticed that his shirt was buttoned up wrong.

Sandy intercepted Sylvia on her way back from the bar and scooped me up as she passed, ushering us to the bathroom. She took a swig from Sylvia's beer, kicking the door shut behind us.

"Holy shit, that boy's persistent," Sandy said, washing her hands.

Sylvia let out a dirty chuckle."And...?"

"Yeah, yeah. Still got him waitin'." Sandy exhaled long and hard, blowing her bangs with the breath.

"He didn't look that frustrated," I pointed out.

"Well, I ain't cruel," she said, shaking the water from her hands, and holding them up meaningfully. "But at least I still got something in reserve."

Oh, shit. Meaning what? That I didn't? All I needed was her spilling what I'd told her about me and Steve. On the other hand, Sylvia probably assumed we'd been doing it from the get go.

Sandy began tidying her hair in the half a mirror that survived on the filthy wall. The amenities at Buck's were not exactly luxurious. I took a quick glance, before Sylvia elbowed me out of the way to reapply her lipstick. I realized I wasn't that much shorter than them, with my heels on. And I thought I had better legs than Sylvia, if not Sandy.

Sandy was smoothing the borrowed skirt, poking her stomach. "Thank Christ, this party's _this _weekend, I'll be out of commission again next week, I can feel it." She sighed.

"Come on then, let's make the most of it." Sylvia drained her beer and hurled the bottle at the overflowing trash can. "I wanna dance!"

I let them go, taking advantage of the mirror being free to double check my lashes. A girl elbowed her way in, grabbing a handful of toilet paper and scrubbing her eyes, angrily. I watched her out the corner of my eye. She had gorgeous hair, long and black, curls tumbling over her shoulders.

She was tiny, like me, but I thought she was younger. It was quite hard to tell, she was made up so heavily. She stopped sniffing and approached the mirror, cussing a blue streak when she saw her eyeliner smudged and again as she touched her cheek gingerly.

She caught my eye in the mirror. "Can you see this?" She gestured angrily at her cheek. I peered at the red mark, nodded. "Bastard!" She hissed. "I'm gonna see him dead for this. Wait 'til I tell my brothers."

"First time he put his hand to ya? You walkin' away now?" I asked. She looked at me, surprised I suppose, that I was asking about her business, then she nodded. "Good for you," I said, "only idiots go back for more."

"Fuckin' right," she said decisively, tilting her chin up.

I left her to repair her makeup, wondering if I'd have been such an idiot, if I'd had brothers to fall back on.

I was disoriented for a second when I went back out, because the table we'd been sitting at was occupied by some other guys. Someone grabbed me by the waist and I yelped, until I realized it was Two-Bit.

"Come dance, munchkin?" It didn't really work as a question, because he dragged me headlong into the back room before I could express a preference. Once there, I saw the others, Sylvia and Sandy dancing, the guys lounging against the wall. Soda was rebuttoning his shirt, Steve must have pointed it out to him.

Two-Bit swung me into the middle of the room, then twirled me back into his arms. Next thing I knew, Steve was thrusting his arm between us and taking my hand from Two-Bit's.

"Hey, this ain't a 'gentleman's excuse me'!" Two-Bit objected.

"No, it's a 'gentleman's _fuck off and find your own girl'_," Steve said with a grin.

"But it's my birthday!"

"The hell it is."

Two-Bit shrugged and grabbed Sandy into a dance instead. She was laughing as he spun her around, her hair flying out like a halo. Soda sipped his beer, watching them.

"That was mean," I teased as Steve pulled me back over to the side, slightly away from Soda and Dallas. "Poor Two-Bit just wants to dance, which is more than you usually do."

"Yeah, well, _poor Two-Bit_ can find his own dance partner, I ain't letting go of you tonight." He leaned into me, kissing me. We hit the wall behind and he pressed up against me. He tasted of beer and desire, his lips cool and his hands hot.

When we came back to reality, I saw Soda was dancing too. He and Two-Bit were making it as much of a contest as when they'd walked on their hands. They were spinning and twirling Sandy and Sylvia in complicated moves that threatened to end in a tangle of limbs.

"What happened to my beer?" I asked Steve, having left it on the table earlier.

"Oh, yeah. Might have drunk that." He hung his arm around my shoulders.

"Jeez, how long was I gone, three minutes?"

"You want another one?"

"I want a first one! It's that, or dance..." I tried to pull him back to the dancing. He pulled a face at me, pulling in the other direction.

"Later."

"You mean 'slower'."

"Hey, I know what I mean."

We were back in the bar area, it seemed even louder, if that was possible. Steve elbowed into the crowd around the bar. I blinked at one of the figures leaning at the end.

Darry Curtis smiled at me and asked if Two-Bit was around. I told him about the dance-off. He snorted and resumed his conversation with the guy next to him.

Steve reappeared, juggling two bottles and two shot glasses, which I quickly helped him with. He jerked his head at the guy behind him. "Clark owed me for a bit of work I did on the QT, gonna pay us in drinks."

I downed the shot, smiling to show my approval of this deal. "Soda's brother's here."

"The fuck...?" Steve looked round in horror, then relaxed, "Oh. Christ, I thought you meant Ponyboy!" He nodded at Darry, then grabbed a barstool as it came free. He picked me up and deposited me on the stool, shoving a space next to me for himself. As he talked engine shit with the guy called Clark – whether that was his first or last name I wasn't sure – I downed the beer.

Darry moved round the bar, found a space next to me.

"Didn't realise, when I met you before. I musta been at school with your sister?"

"Sarah?" I squeaked. He smiled, nodded.

"Yeah, _Sarah_, I knew you reminded me of someone. We were in a lot of classes together. She was my biology partner, I think, for a while."

I was gaping at him. I don't know what was more surprising to me, that she would have hung out with Darry Curtis, or that there was anything so memorable about her. And then, _I reminded him of her?_ I was nothing like her!

Another shot appeared, courtesy of Clark. I smiled and said thanks, drank it, still not knowing what to say to Darry, barely able to look at him. He smelled really...clean, like soap and cologne. I could see that Sodapop was real pretty for a guy, I totally got why all the girls I knew were into him, but seriously, I didn't think he was the hottest thing in that house. Maybe the girls who threw themselves at Soda had never met his brother.

"'Bout time!" Darry grinned as Two-Bit launched himself at us, crowing about his dancing prowess, Soda and Sandy in his wake. Darry pretended to complain. "Man, first you insist I come out, then you're not even here!"

"I am everywhere!" Two-Bit claimed, extravagantly. "An' where I am, the party is..."


	14. Chapter 14

S.E. Hinton , not me etc.

* * *

Various levels of bullshit were being developed, as Two-Bit and Soda continued their bragging. Steve was still deep in discussion with Clark. Darry and his other friend had now joined them, dissecting different makes and models of cars they would never own, all of them bench racing at the top of their voices. Sandy and I were speculating on the whereabouts of Sylvia and Dallas, who had disappeared. All three conversations were apparently interchangeable, as people commented, laughed and ridiculed, shouting across each other to make their point.

The sound of a girl's voice exclaiming got my attention away from the general commotion. I saw the young chick I'd spoken to in the bathroom, over by the door. She was trying to walk past a tall guy in the doorway who looked like he was enjoying her annoyance, goading her by putting out his arm every time she moved, hemming her in.

"What ya lookin' at?" Sandy tried to follow my gaze, through the crowd.

"That bastard over there, that chick told me he hit her." As I said it, the guy grabbed her around the arm, nearly jerking her off her feet. I bristled.

"You talkin' about Angela? She's a piece of work herself."

"I don't care...look at him, he's hurting her!"

"Aw, she can take care of herself. It's none of ours..."

"How can you say that? He's twice her size." The guy was still holding the girl by the arm, dragging her outside. I was following him before I knew what I was doing, before Sandy could stop me.

"Hey, leave her alone, you fuckin' gorilla!" I snapped, hurrying down the steps after them, as he pulled her towards the corner of the building. Angela let rip with a string of curses, batting at the guy with her free hand.

He turned his head to me, tilting it to one side, like I was some interesting specimen to be surveyed.

"You wanna come play too, girlie?" He laughed.

"Evie!" It was Sandy's voice, from the doorway, as she let the noise and heat spill into the night air.

The girl, Angela, was looking at me with wide eyes. She didn't look too frightened, but then she didn't exactly look comfortable either.

I advanced on them. "_I said_, leave her alone." My voice was surprisingly steady.

"Fuck off before I make ya." He turned towards the parking lot there. "It ain't nothin' to do with you, bitch."

"Nah. But it might be something to do with me." A new voice came out of the darkness. Three figures walked over from the side, where several cars were pulled close together. I thought I heard the click of a blade even though it was too dark to see which of them was holding it.

"I ain't got no quarrel with you, Shepard," the gorilla blustered.

"Might wanna take your hand off my sister then." _Oh, now I knew who she was._

The guy dropped Angela's arm like she was red hot. She rubbed it angrily and kicked him in the shin, scooting away from him before he reacted.

"Get in the car, Angel."

"He hit me, Tim." She gave out the information with a certain amount of glee, I thought. "He slapped me before."

"Yeah. Well. I can understand the impulse," Tim said, stone-faced. "_Get in the car_." She disappeared in the direction he'd come from.

The gorilla was dumb enough to think that Tim's comment was a get out for him and he launched into a list of annoying things that chicks did to deserve a slap, like they were buddies yakking. I wasn't sure he even saw the first punch coming. The two other guys glided forwards, one either side.

I turned around quickly and headed back towards the steps, just as Steve and Soda appeared, with Sandy pointing them down towards me. Steve came down the steps as I reached the bottom one.

They all looked towards the darkness, where the sounds of a beating were clearly audible.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Steve rounded on me, his mouth set in an angry line.

"I just..I thought he was gonna hurt her..."

"You don't even know them!"

I nodded. "I know. I was tryin' to help..."

"Glory, Evie, fuckin' glory! You coulda been hurt."

I was suddenly angry, not especially with Steve, but with myself, because what he said was true. But I couldn't yell at myself.

"Aw, go back to your friend with the fascinating engine," I snapped. "I didn't ask you to get involved, did I?"

Steve recoiled. "Fine." He stamped back up the steps and inside.

"Fine!" I yelled after him.

Soda wavered for a second or two, then followed Steve.

Sandy ran down to me and threw her arm around my shoulders, asked if I was okay. That's when I realized I was shaking. I smiled at her and it was harder to act cool than I might have expected.

"I thought he was gonna hurt her..." I repeated. It seemed faintly ridiculous given the noises coming from the lot behind us. But that was guys, that was her brother looking out for her. It wasn't the same.

"I know." And she did. Of course, she did. Sandy sat me down on the side of the steps, lighting up a cigarette for me. I took a drag, gratefully.

"Evie, you can't go around chasing after meatheads like that," Sandy remonstrated, just as Tim Shepard walked right up to us.

"Yeah, you wouldn't wanna get in the habit of being places you weren't expected." He raised an eyebrow at me. There wasn't a mark on him, no sign of a fight at all.

Sandy squeaked, taking a step away from him."Our boyfriends are right inside."

"Okay..." He said slowly, looking at her as if she were deranged. Then he spoke to me again. "Just came to say 'thanks', Angel said you helped her out earlier, as well. I owe ya." He walked away and we saw one of the cars drive off. I had no idea what they had done with the gorilla.

As soon as she was sure he was really gone, Sandy was wriggling with excitement. "_Far out_. Tim Shepard just said he _owes _you, Evie. Like, you could probably ask to have someone killed or something, like..."

"Don't be crazier than you are!" I shoved her lightly, "He's not friggin' Al Capone. Get a grip."

She looked towards the door. "We should probably..."

I nodded. "I might just finish this." I waved the weed at her. "Get my head together."

"I ain't leaving you on your own."

"Please. Just a couple of minutes. I'll be right here."

She went because of course, she wanted to be with Soda. And she'd probably seen me get mad and then need to cool down more times than anyone. Apart from Sarah.

Then I started pacing, although I'd told her I'd stay put. I did stay next to the building, stepping between one lighted patch of ground and the next, under the windows. But I was feeling too keyed up to sit still. I finished the weed and threw it away.

The window on the end was tiny, I had no clue what part of the building it was inside. It was cracked open a little way and I heard voices. Voices I knew. I was walking away, I swear I was walking away, but I heard Steve clearly say, "Christ, she's drivin' me crazy today. What the fuck was all that about?"

Soda chuckled. "You're kidding, right? You ain't seriously askin' me what goes on in a chick's brain?"

My feet were rooted to the spot. If you asked me any other time, I'd have all kinds of shit to say about people who listen in where they shouldn't – Sarah being a prime example – but I just couldn't help myself.

"Why would she get into someone else's business like that?"

"Kind of ballsy of her." _Thank you, Soda._

"Yeah. She's that."

"Like you'd want any other kind of chick. I seen ya with that shy one, remember? She drove you nuts."

"_Evie_ drives me nuts!"

I was real restrained at this point, because I wanted to contribute to the conversation like you wouldn't believe.

"Evie drives you nuts in a good way, man."

I waited for Steve to agree with him. And waited. Just as I was going to walk away, unable to bear not hearing him say anything, he sighed.

"I dunno what she does to me. She's under my skin, for sure."

"Well, d'ya love her, or not?"

"I dunno, man, I just dunno." I think I died a little inside. _He didn't know?_

"Then you don't." Soda sounded so definite. "If you have to ask yourself, then you don't." _Oh. Shit._

"How the hell do you know that?"

"My mom told me. She said, 'when you know, you know', there's no other way of explaining it."

"I ain't sure that _does_ explain it, Soda."

Soda sighed. "Yeah. But, like, with Sandy, I don't wanna go with other girls. Not even if it was 'no strings, meet me in the alley, wham bang, no one else gotta know.' I just don't want that. If Raquel Welch walked in here, wearin' only a smile, I'd still be goin' home with Sandy. And the thought of her with someone else...makes me wanna puke."

Steve snorted with laughter. "So you're into Sandy, I get it. I don't want no other girl but Evie. But how do ya know if that's gonna be forever?"

"Shit, man, didn't I just say? _When you know, you know_. Gimme that beer."

"S'my beer, Curtis."

"Whatever. It's my fee for advisin' you about your love life."

"You ain't helped at all!"

"I'm wounded, man. Okay, it probably don't matter anyways."

"Huh?"

"Don't make no difference what you feel for Evie. She's so pissed at you, she's probably gone home with Clark."

"_The fuck..?"_

"Whoa, chill! Come back. What's it matter to ya?"

"She ain't goin' home with that prick, no fuckin' way! I'll fuckin' kill him. She's _my_ girl..._What?_ What you grinning like that for?"

"An' that's how you know, Stevie, _that's how you know_. Now gimme that beer and fuck off an' find her."

I walked back to the steps and sat down. I wished I had another weed, or better yet another drink. I wasn't comfortable with Steve's indecision, even if Soda had successfully teased a positive reaction out of him. I knew exactly how I felt about him. I loved him. And, right now, I was hacked with him.

The door opened and closed again. Steve stood on the top step, with his arms folded. "Seriously? You're still out here on your own?"

I stood up, ostentatiously brushed my dress down. "I was just coming inside. Actually."

"Good. Because I was just waiting. _Actually_." He stared me out.

"I believe.." I said, pausing only for a second as I walked up the steps, "...that I'm gonna dance now. _You _can please yourself."

Steve stood in front of me. I tried to push past him. He wouldn't move. When he put his hand up to stop me a second time, I flinched.

"What the hell?" He was horrified. "Evie? What's gotten into you?"

I waved my hand towards the cars, "Just, all of that...that guy..."

"Fuck's sake, Evie! Some asshole slaps Angela Shepard and now you act like I'm gonna clock you?" He scowled. "I would _never_..." I watched as he made a real effort to speak more calmly. "I wouldn't. I wouldn't even slap Angel an' she practically begs for it. You, babe..." He shook his head, "...I would never hurt you."

This I knew. This I completely believed. I'd reacted out of some habit I hadn't had in months. Some memory that had been brought to the surface by what had just gone on. Ricky was as hard to shake as nicotine.

Steve sighed. "You gonna tell me what this is all about?" I shook my head. He chewed his lip, regarding me through narrowed eyes. "I don't like secrets. I don't like that it feels like you're keeping something from me." _Wow, that was quite eloquent on the emotional front, for him. Soda had really started something._

I sat down on the top step. Steve sat next to me. "You tired?" he scoffed.

"Nah. These friggin' shoes kill."

He waited. Lit up a weed and waited. Eventually I realised that I was only making it worse for myself.

"I thought Sandy told you all my dirty little secrets." I tried to joke.

He shrugged. "Just what I said, that time at the lake."

I took a drag on his cigarette, another delaying tactic, which he recognised because he took it back. I looked away from him. "Well, that's all there is to tell. I was with Ricky for a while, he was a first class bastard, something along the lines of Angela's charming date. Sue me, for not wantin' to see someone else go that route."

"How long a while?"

"What does it matter?" _Of course it mattered. Only idiots go back for more..._

"How long?"

"Few months."

"_Months?"_ He seemed shocked. "An' he hit you?" I nodded. "Like...he hit you an' that was it?" He watched me for an answer and when I didn't give one, he tried again. "Or he hit you a few times, or what?"

"Glory, Steve, I don't wanna..."

"Evie. I want to know."

At this point I ran out of defences, I ran out of excuses and I just let him have what he was pushing for. "_You want to know?_ You want to know _exactly _how much of an asshole he was? _Exactly _how dumb I really am? Did he hit me more than once, but less than ten times? _Sorry,_ _I forgot to count_. Did he slap me, black my eye, pull my hair? _Yes, yes and yes_. Did I try and leave him? _Yes._ Did he eventually get bored and leave me? _Yes_." I glared at him. "Satisfied?"

He was silent for a moment. I pulled the weed from him and finished it, flicking the butt away into the darkness, staring after it.

"Fuck." _Guess he ran out of eloquent._

"Yeah," I agreed.

"I don't think you're dumb." _Oh. Not what I expected him to take from my little rant. _

"I went back. Looks pretty dumb from here."

"No. I don't understand it. But it ain't on you, no way. It's all on him, the lousy fucker. Christ, Evie," Steve threw his arm around my shoulders, hugging me to him, "I'm just so pissed that it happened at all. He deserves to be in a hole in the ground."

"Well, it's done with, ain't it?" I lied through my teeth, given that it had obviously just made me react like a lunatic. "And I want another drink. Now." Really, what I wanted, more than anything, was to stop talking about it, stop remembering it and most of all, stop letting it leak back into my life. I figured a little more underage drinking should solve most of that. I put my hand out and pulled Steve up. "Is Clark paid up yet? Or we got more to collect?"

We went back in. The noise was welcome and the challenge that Two-Bit threw down was welcome and I was just in the mood now to accept.

And then, the drinks were lining up and the games began and I wasn't sure of the rules. After a few more shots, I wasn't even sure there were rules...

* * *

Well, Soda the bar room philosopher, who knew?

Anyone want to take a bet on how the drinking games are going to work out...?


	15. Chapter 15

S.E. Hinton owns.

A/N: Bit of an experiment here...please tell me if this chapter's opening style doesn't work. Plus, it's long.

* * *

"Evie!"

Ah, what the hell? Like a bomb going off in my head, Sarah's voice shot through the dead black of sleep. I made the mistake of sitting up. Lay back down on the couch immediately. The couch.

Oh, Christ.

XXX

"_C'mon, Evie, babe, you gotta try and walk..." Steve's plea came back to me. Where was I when he said that? He must have given up trying to persuade me, because I was pretty sure I remembered him picking me up and carrying me..._

XXX

"Do you know what time you got in?" Sarah demanded. Seriously? That was her first and most important question? No frigging idea. I pleaded the fifth. She got louder.

XXX

"_You ain't telling me whadda do!" Jeez, had I been as loud as the memory wanted to insist?_

"_You tell him, sugar." Dallas's voice was a mixture of delight and mischief. "I'll getcha another drink, if this cheap bastard won't." Oh, God. That cannot have gone over well with Steve..._

XXX

"You look like something the cat dragged in! Look at your pantyhose!"

I followed Sarah's gaze, with difficulty. My new, white pantyhose looked like I'd been walking through mud. Huh, must have walked at some point, then. Pretty ragged too, there was no saving this pair. I wondered where my shoes were. I was a bit too scared to check out my dress just yet.

XXXXX

"_Somebody dance with me!" I'd complained long and hard. And they had. Two-Bit, Clark whoever, Soda at one point, someone else I didn't remember. Wild, crazy dancing to music that was raw and loud and got everyone hot. _

_Where had Steve been? No way he would've let that happen..._

XXX

"Dear God, Evie, what were you thinking?"

'Quite possibly, nothing, you excessively loud bitch', was my first choice of answer, but what came out was, "Uhh, sorry..."

Sarah looked at me suspiciously. "Are you going to barf again?"

Again?

XXX

"_Well, take a fuckin' hike, Steve Randle, if you don't like it. I can dance with whoever I want to."_

"_Watch me, Evie. This is me takin' a hike."_

_I stared after his retreating figure, my pride struggling with the urge to call him back, as he stalked out of the door, into the night. Then Two-Bit was whooping, spinning Sandy past me, grabbing me for a dance that I no longer wanted..._

XXX

"Christ, Evie, get upstairs, Ma'll be up soon." Sarah tried to drag me up. I stood for a second, wobbled, sat back down. Heaved.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" She thrust a bowl into my hands. I took deep breaths, forced myself not to hurl. Listened to her lecture me again about what a disgrace I was, her voice cutting in between the thumps from my brain knocking on the inside of my skull.

XXX

"_You're gonna haveta drive."_

"_I'm wasted, man, I ain't drivin'"_

"_I'll drive, gimme the keys." Seemed like the perfect solution to me._

_A whole chorus of voices, "Shuddup, Evie!"_

"_She don't look too good, man."_

_A new voice. A serious, take charge kind of voice. "I'll drive. Randle, get her in the truck." _

_Oh, no._

XXX

"Well, I don't see why you're bawlin', Evie, you got yourself into this mess." But she sat next to me and put her arm around me and somehow that made it worse than if she'd just carried on yelling. I snivelled some for a few minutes until I realised it was making my head hurt even worse.

"C'mon, let's get you upstairs." I let her steer me out of the front room. Glory, there were my shoes, standing to high heeled attention next to the front door.

XXX

"_You don't understand. It blows, being smaller than everyone else, I hate being the odd one out."_

"_Honey, you're not that small." His voice was amused._

"_You have no idea, you're like some kind of giant, you never hadda stand on a chair to reach anything, in your life!"_

"_I wasn't always this tall," he laughed outright._

"_Yeah, but now...now y'all are like seven feet tall, that's like...this much taller'n me," I reached up to demonstrate, falling forwards onto him. He caught me easily, setting me back on the bar stool. And then...Oh, dear God. Then I told Darry Curtis he really was like Superman. For a whole lot of reasons. _

_Oh, no. No, no, no._

XXX

"He's still here, y'know." I squinted at Sarah, as I held on to the stair rail, bracing myself for the climb, my stomach churning. She jerked her head towards the front door. "Your Steve. He's still here. I wouldn't let him in, but he insisted on stayin' around." I looked at her, hazily. "He's asleep on the porch." _What? _I stumbled towards the door, peered at the figure stretched out between two porch chairs.

"Personally, I'd have dumped you on the step and ran, but I guess he's not so bad, after all." Was she laughing at me? Sarah? Did she just say Steve wasn't so bad?

"Want me to tell him you're alive, so he can go home?"

"No." I put my hand on the front door.

"Evie..." Shit, I knew it was too good to be true. But she wasn't launching into another lecture, she just took me by the shoulders and turned me towards the mirror hanging on the wall. Glory, the Bride of Frankenstein had nothing on me. I was more eyeliner than face, to be honest, and although I was still wearing my false lashes, they were not where they had started off.

Sarah suppressed a smile. "Seriously, Evie, go upstairs, take your face off. He's sleeping, as far as I can tell. You can see him in a while."

XXX

I tried to avoid thinking as I swiped makeup remover across my eyes. I wasn't sure I was ready for reality. Unfortunately, reality was gate crashing this particular moment, stitching together the tapestry of last night, whether I wanted it to or not.

_I didn't know why the banging of the empty glass on the bar was integral to the game, but apparently it was, and the fact that I kept forgetting invalidated the round and meant we had to start over..._

XXX

"Y'know, I think you oughta stop now. This ain't fair." Darry sounded so reasonable, I didn't know why people didn't listen to everything he said, like it was the law. Hell, I'd vote for him. But Clark whoever-he-was and Dallas were in a real grudge match now. I didn't remember Dallas joining in the game, but he was matching Clark, shot for shot. Two-Bit, as referee, was just drinking as and when he felt like it.

"Steve, c'mon. You guys oughta stop now." Darry was shooting significant glances at me, for Steve's benefit. Steve blinked at him and shrugged. Darry appealed directly to me next. "Honey, you can't keep up with these guys, you're too tiny to drink that much."

That's when I'd complained about being small. And told him he was basically a real life Man of Steel. Shit.

Was it possible to have your jaw wired shut for the simple reason you couldn't be trusted to talk sense? I was a perfect candidate. I should never have started drinking again when I was still pissed at Steve.

I must have listened to Darry, or maybe the embarrassment drove me from the bar.

Soda and Sandy were necking on one of the couches thoughtfully provided by Buck; they'd had the sense not to get drawn further into the 'death by shot' marathon, after the first couple of rounds.

I wandered past them, interested by the fact that someone with a far cooler taste in records was now in charge in the back room. I'd started dancing, by myself, until gradually everyone else appeared. Not Darry. Pretty sure I'd have remembered if he'd been dancing. I'd danced with just about everyone else though.

I'd seen Steve start to get antsy and I'd done it anyway.

By the time Steve pulled me away, he was getting really mad.

"That's it, Evie," he'd told me, in no uncertain tone. "Let's get out of here."

And I'd argued. Dug my heels in. Told him he wasn't the boss of me. Told him I could stay and drink and dance for as long as I wanted.

That's when Dallas had started stirring things up, telling me he would get me a drink, letting Steve know he'd take care of me for him. I had no idea how he hadn't been on the end of Steve's fists for that. Maybe Steve was too wasted. Maybe he was out of his depth, with me acting like a wild thing. Maybe he didn't care enough...I squashed that treacherous thought.

Whatever the reason, he'd taken my challenge and taken the hike I'd recommended.

It took me about five minutes of defiant dancing to change my mind and want him back. When I stumbled outside, the fresh air hit me like a slap.

"Whoa." Sandy wobbled down the steps next to me. "Evie, where ya goin'?"

Even I wasn't sure that what I said made much sense, apart from the word 'Steve'.

"Where is Steve?" Soda had followed Sandy. Dallas and Sylvia were close behind and now we all stood in a line on the steps, with the music and noise filtered by the half closed door behind us.

"I don't know!" I wailed, bursting into tears.

"Look what you did!" Sandy berated Soda, who looked completely confused.

Dallas snickered and Sylvia slapped him upside the head. "You didn't exactly help," she snapped, "You were needling Steve for the hell of it!"

Dallas jumped down the last couple of steps, backing away. "Christ alive, how is it my fault Randle can't keep his woman happy?" Sylvia marched after him with murder in her eyes. Sandy followed, her face gleeful at the possibility of an entertaining fight.

With the logic that only comes from advanced drunkenness, we all ended up heading across the parking lot. I hopped, holding onto Soda's arm, finally giving up on the stilettos, swinging them from my fingers. My balance was shot and, besides, my feet were killing me.

"I don't see nothin' funny in you breakin' up Steve and Evie," Sylvia yelled at Dallas, who was still laughing at her.

"Who's breakin' up? I ain't breakin up!" I objected loudly and with a new batch of tears, but they weren't listening to me, I'd fallen behind.

Headlamps flashed on and off, dazzling me. Sandy gasped. Steve climbed out of the Chevy, tossing a weed aside."Nobody's breakin' up," he stated, picking me up and sitting me on the hood, then kissing me pretty thoroughly. "Evie. _Me too_," he growled in my ear, even though I hadn't said a word. If my head wasn't spinning before, it sure was after that.

Steve turned around, because the other guys were strangely quiet. They were all looking at something on the ground.

As Sandy stumbled backwards, the gap she left showed a figure lying motionless in the dirt. They must have spotted him when Steve hit the lights. There was a lot of blood. A wave of nausea hit me and I looked away. It was the guy who had been hurting Angela Shepard.

Soda bent down and rolled him onto his back. The guy groaned and I think we all breathed again. I know I'd been certain he was dead.

"Shit! What should we do?" Soda looked back at us, then up towards the bar.

"Leave him!" Sandy pulled Soda away, "Let's get outta here."

Soda wiped his hand absentmindedly on his shirt, leaving a dirty red smear. I knew I'd been right to fear for that shirt. "I'mma tell Darry," he said, heading back towards the steps.

"Buck won't want any interference here." Steve warned, as we followed them.

As if his words had some kind of magic effect, flashing lights swung off the road and along the track towards us. It wasn't just an ambulance, it was a police car as well.

"This ain't good, we need to book it!" Soda stated the obvious. "We're all underage."

"Grow a pair, you pansy." Dallas hissed. "Think the fuzz don't know about Buck's? They ain't interested in you, long as they collect, nice and regular. Someone's ratted him out, probably got outstandings." He pointed to the figure on the ground.

I started to feel a bit lightheaded. The night air and the sight of the blood was not a good combination, given how blitzed I was. I swayed against Steve, tightening my fist in his shirt.

"Evie?" He tried to make me stand up. "C'mon, Evie, babe, you gotta try and walk..." I slumped against him. He picked me up and carried me over to the steps. People were peering out of the windows and doors, alerted by the flashing lights.

"Soda?" Steve called him back. "I don't care what Dally said, I wanna get Evie out of here." He tried to hand over his keys. "You're gonna haveta drive."

Soda shook his head. "I'm wasted, man, I ain't drivin'"

"I'll drive, gimme the keys." Seemed like the perfect solution to me.

A whole chorus of voices. "Shuddup, Evie!"

I started laughing, then stopped. I was feeling ill again. I closed my eyes, leaning against Steve. The door opened and closed, the wave of noise that washed out cut off quickly.

"She don't look too good, man..." Dallas's voice seemed far away. Somebody else spoke.

A new voice. A serious, take charge kind of voice. "I'll drive. Randle, get her in the truck." Oh, no.

Steve carried me over to Darry's truck. It seemed a long way off the ground to me. I heard Darry tell Steve to get in first, so that I could sit next to the window. That must have meant...Darry picked me up and put me on the seat.

There was some ruckus as Darry started the engine.

As soon as the ambulance left, the cop had made a beeline for Dallas and was trying to make out he had something to do with the guy who'd been beaten. There was obviously no proof that Dallas had anything to do with it. I could have told them that. But truth didn't seem to be major consideration. Once again, Dallas's reputation was his downfall. Once again, Sylvia was up in the cop's face about it.

I don't know what she said, but the outcome was, it was _Sylvia_ being put in the back of the cruiser, _Sylvia_ ducking under the cop's hand as he did that thing they always do, guiding a person's head inside the door. Dallas was not as vocal in her defence. In fact, he disappeared pretty quickly back inside Buck's. But that wasn't what was bugging my memory.

Darry swung the truck out onto the road. I leaned against the glass of the window, telling myself I was not going to hurl. Under no circumstance was I going to hurl in front of Darry Curtis.

He had to pull over twice before we got to my house.

XXX

As I tugged the zipper on my dress, I wondered if the hangover or the shame would kill me first. I didn't have a preference, as long as I never had to face Darry again.

Sarah came in as I was dressing in an old pair of jeans and a sweatshirt that was faded and baggy from years of washing. I think it was hers before it was mine. It felt like comfort should win out over style today. She held out a mug of coffee and a glass of water.

"One? Or Both?" she asked, producing a bottle of aspirin when I took the water. I wasn't sure about the coffee, but I sipped it gingerly once I'd swallowed the aspirin.

"Ma's awake, but she don't know about Steve." Sarah paused in the doorway. "I can still send him away?"

I shook my head – gently – and told her I'd be right down. Then I swallowed my pride and thanked her for looking after me. She made out it was nothing, but I saw her smile as she went.

I attacked my hair, as a last attempt to look human again, before I faced Steve. I just about remembered sliding out of the truck last night, Steve following me and taking me from Darry. Darry offering to wait for him.

"_Nah," Steve had said, "I'll hang for a while, make sure she's okay. Thanks, man."_

"_Okay. You come to ours, if you need to. See ya, Evie, tell Sarah I said hi." He was laughing._

It was after I'd stopped in the bathroom to brush my teeth that Sarah came up to me, handed me a fresh cup of coffee. "He's gonna feel almost as bad as you, I expect." I was pretty sure she was enjoying this. But then, it also seemed like she wasn't so down on Steve as she had been. I wondered what kind of conversation they'd had while I was passed out on the couch.

I nudged Steve's leg to wake him up. He groaned as he sat up too quickly, twisting his neck.

"Jeez, these chairs were not made for sleeping in."

I held out the coffee. He took it gratefully, swallowing a huge gulp, then cursing when he burned his mouth. He put the mug on the ground and leaned forward, rubbing his face to wake himself up all the way. I noticed he automatically smoothed his hair at the sides, too.

He looked up at me sideways."Hey babe. How ya doin'?"

Instead of answering, I curled up on the seat next to him, tucking under his arm and burying my head in his shoulder.

"That good, huh?" he said. "Well, don't reckon I should let you near tequila again anytime soon, for sure."

I shuddered at the thought, my stomach clenching.

Steve grunted."I could do with some aspirin, myself."

I pulled the bottle out of my jeans pocket and held it out. He shook out a few and crunched them, retrieving the coffee to wash them down. This time he drained it. He let his head fall back and pulled me in tighter.

"I liked it better last time I woke up here," he said quietly. "I seem to remember it was considerably more comfortable." _Yeah. That was real nice._

"I'm surprised Sarah wasn't out here, tipping a bucket of water over you."

"Oh, she had plenty to say when she caught me deliverin' you like a parcel. She give you a lot of grief, this morning?"

"Nah." I lied. "Said you were a real bad influence, though."

He tried to sit up, objecting. I scoffed and pushed him back, getting comfortable again, relaxing into the fact that we were okay despite everything that went on at Buck's.

"I'm just kiddin'. She was okay. I think she was kind of impressed you stayed," I told him.

"Maybe not so much. She was right to be pissed, I shouldn't've let ya drink that much."

"_Let _me? You ain't the boss of me." I winced as I said it, remembering last night and what I'd yelled at him. "I mean, I got myself into it, no one else to blame."

"Aw, you weren't so bad." A patent lie, but I loved him for it.

"Hmm. Don't think I'll be going over to Soda's house any time soon."

"Soda's? Why? He ain't gonna care...oh. You mean _Superman'_s house?" Steve said slyly.

"Shut up." I slapped him on the chest, weakly.

"Why? That was my favourite part."

"Thanks a bunch! You enjoyed seeing me humiliate myself? Telling him how great I thought he was? Why didn't ya stop me?"

Steve laughed. "Oh, _that_. That wasn't what I was thinkin' about. An' if you think anyone could stop you when you're on a roll, you gotta think again, babe." He kissed me on top of the head, laughed again. "You were real funny." I slapped him again.

_Wait. That wasn't what he was thinking about?_

"I didn't puke in the truck, did I?"

"Nah, we pulled over in time. You gave good warnings."

"What'd I do that was so funny then?"

"Don't remember?" He clicked his teeth, in mock disapproval. "That's a bad sign, Evie. Just ask Two-Bit. Sign of a real bad drink habit..."

I growled his name. My head was still thumping too hard to get into a game of questions and answers.

"Okay. My _personal_ favourite part was when he lifted you outta the truck, an' you told him not to bother kissin' you. 'Cause, even though he was a doll, he wouldn't kiss as good as me."

I sat up slowly, looking at Steve, trying to see if he was lying. He shrugged modestly. "He was crushed. I told him to suck it up. Not everyone can be a lover _and _a fighter..."

"Now, see, you had me until that point, Randle. _Bullshit_ you told Darry Curtis to suck anything up."

He pulled a face like he was offended. "I did too. He wasn't crushed, though, that was a lie. He told me I could kiss you as much as I wanted, 'cause you'd just spent ten minutes decoratin' the sidewalk with puke, so I was welcome to ya."

And I was right back in the position of wanting to die from embarrassment.

Steve stretched. "Do you think Sarah will let me in the house now? I really gotta take a leak..."

I stood up, waving him ahead of me. He paused on the doorstep. "Jeez, I almost forgot about Sylvia getting arrested. Do you remember that?" He went inside.

And the thing that had been nagging at me upstairs came back in full Technicolor.

_We'd been pulling away from the scene outside Buck's. Darry was parked down from the building and as he turned the truck, I was staring right at the cop car, which was itself parked at an angle, so no one else could see inside it. Something came sharply into focus in my memory and slotted with something else I'd seen, from another window. _

I realized that it wasn't something I could tell. It wasn't something I wanted to be true. But it was.

I know I was drunk. I was blitzed past the point of making sense, past the point where I could ever hope that anyone else would believe me. But I know what I saw_. _

I know that as the cop put Sylvia in the back of his car, he put his hand on her thigh. _And she smiled._

* * *

Ooh, what dangerous game is Sylvia playing now?

Okay, so the experiment was – little flashbacks, because her memory's all over the place at first, bits and pieces coming back to her as she wakes up. Then the evening told as a whole. Too confusing, or did it work?


	16. Chapter 16

I couldn't stop my brain turning over what I'd seen. All day at work it kept distracting me. I told Marian I was still hung over, to explain why I was quiet. I also told her about Darry, to give her a laugh and to avoid talking about what was really bothering me.

"I'll never be able to look him in the eye again." I groaned.

"Aw, Sweet Pea, you gave his ego a boost, is all. He'll thank you for that! One time, I was so drunk..." She started on one of her improbable tales. I swear she could give Two-Bit a real run for his money.

But it didn't change what I was worrying about.

As I headed out for my bus and cut out of the alley, a cop car eased past on patrol. I caught myself looking, trying to remember the face of the one I was convinced Sylvia was playing around with. It was hard to look past the uniform and see them as individuals. It was even harder to imagine going with one.

Even if they weren't all so much older, they were the enemy. Jeez, enough of us had had run ins with the police to make us uncomfortable just being near them, never mind whatever Sylvia was doing. I was pretty sure I knew how she would justify it. Her whole 'go where the power is' spiel was fresh in my mind.

I fully intended to go home as normal. But I found myself stepping off the bus two stops early and following the street without consciously making any decision. I knocked on the door, praying no one would be in, praying I wouldn't have to go through with any questions.

I'd like to say I stood my ground, but when the dog threw itself at the other side of the door, making a noise like all the hounds of Hell, I hopped back involuntarily.

I heard a voice telling the animal to _shut the fuck up_ and then the door cracked open. The scrabbling sounds did nothing for my nerves. I watched as the dog's nose came through the door, followed by a paw with wicked looking claws. I looked up at the young man who had the dog by the collar and whose nose was peering around the door, in a similar manner to the beast.

He stared at me, not verbalising a query, but simply raising his eyebrows.

"Is Sylvia in?" I tried. He sighed, like I'd asked him a very irritating question and yanked the dog off its feet, in order to open the door wider, revealing the fact that he was dressed only in a grubby undershirt and half fastened jeans that had seen better days.

"Syl!" He yelled over his shoulder, then looked at me again. "You wanna come in?" He marched the dog down the hallway and kicked it through another door, closing it quickly. The dog launched itself against this new target and commenced barking furiously again.

Since it seemed less likely I'd be savaged now, I stepped inside.

I figured the young man, who yelled for Sylvia again from the bottom of the stairs, was one of her brothers. He could have been anything from fifteen to twenty. I'd certainly never seen him at school, but that didn't mean he wasn't my age. Maybe he was educated at other establishments. He had the tattoos to suggest so. I wondered if the muddy brown of his hair was Sylvia's natural color too.

"What is your fuckin' deal, moron?" Sylvia appeared at the top of the stairs, yelling her response at him. "I'm fuckin' sleeping!" He jabbed his thumb in my direction and sloped off into the front room.

"Jeez, Evie? What the hell you doin' here?" Sylvia blinked and rubbed her eye. "What's the time?"

"Six. In the evening," I added, just in case.

"Christ." She came downstairs, in a robe that looked like someone had sliced off the bottom two thirds of a ceremonial Japanese kimono. I had no clue where you could even buy something like that. It barely covered her ass as she walked towards the kitchen door, behind which the dog still slavered. "Coffee?" She asked me over her shoulder.

I was about to yell stop, as she opened the door, and I braced myself for the canine whirlwind, as she reached for the door handle and twisted it.

The dog rolled in front of her, silent apart from a couple of whimpers. "Hey, puppy." Sylvia rubbed its ears absentmindedly as she went to make the coffee. I trailed after her, watching the dog carefully. It slunk after Sylvia, lying on her feet, as she gestured that I should sit down. She lit up a weed, almost delicate in her movements as she leaned against the counter top.

"Again with the 'what the hell?'" She grinned, "Not that it ain't peachy to receive callers, n' all..."

It had to be a genuine surprise that I was there. I'd never made any effort to socialise with her apart from when Sandy forced us together.

"I wanna talk to you." How lame did I sound? I looked over my shoulder, in the direction of the front room. I wasn't sure how far our voices would carry. Just then, Sylvia's brother appeared anyway. The dog rumbled, but didn't move.

"You making coffee?" He sniffed the air.

Sylvia slopped half a cup out and thrust it at him. "Piss off, Trey," she said cheerfully. "Me an' Evie wanna talk."

"Fuck off to your own room, then." His response was equally cheerful.

"An' have to listen to you through the wall? It must be at least an hour since you last jacked off, it's only a matter of time."

I looked at the table top like it was real interesting. He laughed at her, wandered off, and shortly after that we heard a door bang upstairs and then the relentless beat of some psychedelic rock song started up.

"I'm surprised he was down here at all." Sylvia grinned. "Usually he makes the most of having the room to himself when Buzz is inside." She poured our coffee and ushered me through to the front room, where she curled up on the couch, leaving me to perch on one of the armchairs. The dog had apparently fallen asleep, because it didn't follow us. I was immensely grateful.

"You got something on your mind, darlin'?" She looked amused rather than curious.

"You fooling around on Dallas?" I had to just come right out with it, or I'd never have had the courage to say anything. She blinked in surprise, but she recovered her calm expression well enough, until I continued. "With a cop?"

Now she looked shocked. Now she started to get a hard look around the eyes. "Who told ya that?"

"No one. I saw something..." I let her stew on what it was I might have seen.

Sylvia chewed her lip, thoughtfully. "An' how would it be your business, if I was?" She wasn't denying it then. _Shit_. Part of me had still hoped it wasn't true.

"_Why?"_ Whatever was coming in this conversation, I wanted to try and understand what possessed her to start something like that.

She stubbed out her weed, then she scowled at me. "You plannin' on broadcasting this?" I shook my head.

"Not my style," I told her, truthfully.

"_Why?"_ She repeated my question, like she was only just considering the answer for herself, staring at the floor. "Because it got me off the charge, the first time..." She looked up at me, daring me to judge. I sat still and silent. "...An' then he came back an' he was _real_..."

I thought she was going to add a qualifying word. Like he was 'real kind' or 'real handsome'. Then I realized she was saying he was 'real', the opposite of 'fake'. She saw I was confused.

"I mean, he's just who he is. He's not some maniac, always looking for a fight, always wanting action. He already is a real person."

I was aware of her characterization of Dallas there, but it also made me blurt out the question of how old this cop was, because I interpreted what she was saying as essentially, 'He's not a kid'.

"Twenty seven."

I was open mouthed. Sylvia bristled a little. "It's not so much of a difference. I'm eighteen next month..."

"Sylvia...this is fucked up. You know that."

"You don't get it. You couldn't possibly get it, Evie. You're not like me, you don't have _this_ around your neck, stranglin' any chance of a different life!" She waved her hand, to take in the house, her whole life, I guess. "Fuck, if I don't get out soon..."

The noise of her brother's music continued shaking the walls. She'd just mentioned her older brother doing time again and I wasn't sure if her dad was in jail or not at the moment. Even her mom was a well known character in the neighborhood, not someone you'd argue with if you had the choice. I could only imagine what their reaction would be, to Sylvia sleeping around with a cop. But still...

"If he's offering you _a different life_, why don't you break up with Dallas, be with...?"

"Jack," she told me, without thinking.

"Be with _Jack_," I repeated. "If it's so great, if that's what you want?"

"He's not ready to tell his wife yet." Her voice was quiet, but then she glared at me defiantly, "He will though. Soon. It's just that her dad was real ill, so he wants to wait a little, until she's stronger." Her eyes dared me to find fault with this bullshit.

"_Christ,_ Sylvia." I couldn't help the shock in my voice. "He's married?"

She shrugged. "Not really. They don't even sleep together, they haven't liked each other in years."

Now I could have called Sylvia many things; bitchy, manipulative, aggressive. But not stupid. Never stupid. She had to know he was feeding her one of the oldest lines in the book. She filled in the silence, as I sat there, unable to find words.

"He's gonna get a transfer, outta Tulsa, an' when he does, I'll be going with him." She was talking to convince herself, I was pretty sure of that. Sure as hell wasn't convincing me.

"And is _Jack _the reason Dallas keeps being picked up? When he ain't done anything?""

Sylvia had the grace to look a little guilty. "Dally does enough. There's plenty he's got away with."

"Why don't you just dump him?" I repeated the question she'd evaded. Sylvia bit her lip again.

"Jack says it's a good cover, until he tells his wife."

"Christ, Sylvia." I was running out of reactions. She laughed.

"C'mon, Evie, I ain't breakin' Dally's heart, he could care less about me. He runs around with different girls all the time. You know it's true."

I was regretting starting this conversation. I had no clue how to handle this.

"Maybe if he really cared about me, it'd be different, but he don't." She sounded defiant. "And Jack is...so strong..."

"Yeah, well, the gun an' badge'll do that for a guy," I scoffed.

Sylvia scowled. "I thought maybe you'd understand _some_ of it. I can see how you feel about Randle. Hell, a blind man could see how you feel about him. You know what it's like to wanna be with someone real bad."

"Cheatin' on someone ain't right," I said feebly.

"Even with how you feel about Randle?"

"I wouldn't ever cheat on Steve!"

"No, that ain't what I'm saying. Not cheat _on him,_ cheat _with him_. If he had a girlfriend, but you still felt the way you do about him and he came around to you once in a while..."

I opened my mouth to snap back a negative response again but the words wouldn't come. I thought about what she was saying. Really thought about it. If that was the only way in which I could be with Steve, how strong would my morals be then?

Sylvia took my hesitation as an admission. But she didn't look triumphant, just nodded. "Ain't so clear cut, huh?"

Was she saying that she had real feelings for this sleazy cop? Was that what she was trying to imply by comparing what she was doing with the fact that I loved Steve?

We looked at each other for a long few seconds, measuring each other, perhaps in a different way than we ever had before.

"Gimme two months," she said suddenly. "In two months, he'll have the promotion, the transfer. An' we'll be gone."

"I already said I wouldn't say..." I started to protest.

"Evie, you gotta do better than that. You're too easy to see through when something's buggin' you. Even when you think you ain't saying nothing, you are."

"Like what?" I said, defensively.

"Like you know about me an' Randle, have done since you started goin' with him." She raised an eyebrow, smirked at me. _Shit._

She stretched theatrically, easing back into the Sylvia I knew, like a snake reversing back into its discarded skin. "So, you keep a lid on tight about Jack, for two months, an' I'll keep quiet too. Keep Dally from killing Randle, one dark night."

"He wouldn't...anyway, he'd be mighty pissed with you, too."

"So? Don't matter to me, now, does it? But I think he would. Kill Steve. If I tell him just right."

"Fuck you!" I hissed. Sylvia shrugged.

"Heard worse. Oh, another thing. Me n' Sandy'll be havin' _girls' night_ again, real soon. You'll be cool, if the guys ask about that, right? Say we're at yours? I'm assuming you don't wanna come party with the people I'll be introducing Sandy to...?"

I stood up.

The movement must have interested the dog. It came skidding into the room, drool hanging from its bared teeth.

"Here, puppy." Sylvia blew it a kiss and it diverted from its path straight at me, to land on the couch next to her. She played with its ears as it fawned over her.

"Sylvia, I don't wanna party with you ever again. Hell, I don't wanna double date with you. Not to see the band, not nothin'. You want me quiet, you stay outta my way for two months." I didn't want to have to watch her with Dallas, not if they were fighting and especially not if they weren't. "I don't care how you do it, but I don't want you an' Dallas around me."

"Gonna be tricky, you know how Sandy likes company." She smirked. That made me madder. Sandy's obsession with being in public when she dated Soda was down to Sylvia's influence in the first place.

I leaned over the back of the couch as I made my way to the door. "_Try_. Real hard," I hissed.

She laughed, genuinely laughed. "Deal." She nodded. "Y'know Evie, if you didn't have a stick up your ass half the time, I think you an' me would get on just fine..."

I walked away, slamming the front door behind me. My anger sped me home, despite the longer walk.


	17. Chapter 17

Do not own The Outsiders, just having fun.

Bit of canon, for anyone who was waiting for this Evie detail...

* * *

I held my breath all week, it seemed. But I didn't run into Sylvia. I spoke to Sandy on the phone, she didn't seem to have been clued in by her at all. I didn't have high hopes for the weekend though, Steve wanted us to hang out at the Curtis house for Two-Bit's real birthday and, of course, everyone would be there. I was still working on how to handle that. For several reasons.

On the Friday, it was hot, even when Steve picked me up after work. We'd been driving with the windows down to catch a breeze, but we were keen enough to pull into the Tasty Freeze as we passed.

As we turned from the window with ice cold bottles of Coke, we saw Two-Bit and Ponyboy leaning on the table next to Steve's car. They must have been walking and seen us pull in.

"Hi, Tink." Two-Bit winked at me. "Just in time to use your fairy dust to give us a ride home." I poked my tongue out at him, more concerned with the cold drink than a comeback.

"Babysittin' again, Two-Bit?" Steve growled sarcastically. Ponyboy scowled at him.

"Play nice, Stevie." Two-Bit grinned. "Me an' the kid's just been huntin' up some action downtown."

"How'd that work out for ya?" Steve was scornful.

Two-Bit smiled mysteriously, as he dug in his pocket and gave Ponyboy money for drinks of their own. "We did okay, huh, Pony? He's got his share of the Curtis charm." Ponyboy squirmed, mumbled something I didn't catch, making Two-Bit laugh at him. He hugged him around the shoulders. "Well, I'mma give you some pointers for next time, kid." Ponyboy slapped his hand away and headed up to the counter.

Two-Bit grinned at Ponyboy's back, then at us. "Ready to kick back tomorrow? Most important day of the year, an' all." He winked at me. "I'm sure your liver must have recovered by now."

I was about to snap back a reply about his birthday celebrations, when I looked across the lot. A couple of cars had pulled in while we'd been talking. I realized with a sick feeling that this time I definitely recognised the two tone Impala. Two guys got out. _Shit._

"Can we book it?" I said, moving to stand so my back was to the new arrivals, trying to get Steve's attention on me, trying to make him get in the car. He looked at me blankly. Two-Bit was quicker on the uptake, realized I was freaked.

"S'up, Tinkerbelle?" he asked me, looking over my shoulder. I desperately tried to think of some way to get them to move, and quickly.

"Looky here, I know that cute little ass," Ricky drawled, grabbing me on the behind with both hands, making me jump.

"_The fuck?"_

"Whoa!"

There was nothing between the reaction times as Steve and Two-Bit both bristled, stepping forwards, faces grim. As he moved, Steve stuck out his arm, pushing me behind him, to one side.

"Get lost, Ricky," I snapped before I had time to think. Steve's shoulders went back and his eyes narrowed, as he realized who it was. Trying not to look at the tattoos inked on Ricky's hands, I dropped my Coke on the table and clamped both my hands around Steve's arm, hissing his name. He ignored me, his eyes burning into Ricky.

"Oh, you doin' her now?..._Randle_ ain't it?" Ricky chuckled. "Much good it'll do ya, Randle, little bitch is frigid, anyways." He was half crocked, he smelled of whisky, even from where I was standing. I had a flashback to him downing shots in between groping me. "Or maybe she just likes it rough? Huh, baby? You like to tell him 'no' too?" He winked at me.

Without looking around, Steve handed his Coke back to Two-Bit who immediately transferred it to the table behind him, also without taking his eyes off Ricky and his sidekick. Ponyboy had returned and he circled the table warily, coming up behind us. Even he put the drinks he was carrying down, held himself like he was ready for something. That frightened me.

"Shut your dirty mouth, fucker," Steve said, calmly. He didn't look like he was tensed, but I could feel him shaking with anger as I held his arm.

Ricky snickered. "Seriously?" He smirked at his friend. "Maybe this kid don't know chicks need a firm hand."

Steve took a step towards him.

"Steve, please, don't," I said, quietly, hanging onto his arm with all my strength. Two-Bit moved up as well but I didn't know if that was a good sign or not. Probably not.

Ricky snickered again. "Aw, that was months ago, maybe she changed, warmed up a little. Maybe she's gonna take them all on tonight. Huh, Evie? Gonna show 'em all a good time, even the little one?"

I was embarrassed then, only because I saw Ponyboy's eyes go wide. Steve shook me off easily. His face was set as he advanced on Ricky. Ricky didn't have the sense to back up. Or be afraid.

"Shut your fuckin' trap, you dumb bastard," Steve said.

"Think you can make me, asshole?" The words were barely out of his mouth when Ricky was flying backwards to land on his backside in the dirt. Steve flexed his knuckles, watching him. Ricky got up slowly but Steve landed a second punch that sent him back down.

Ricky was up quicker this time and flew at Steve, colliding with him, head down, fists flying. Steve was ready for him and shoved back hard. They hit the ground and Steve got in another two good punches. But Ricky was strong and rolled them as he hit Steve in the ribs, then elbowed him in the face. As Steve caught his breath, Ricky ground his knee onto his outstretched hand, making Steve yell something fierce. I prayed Ricky wasn't carrying a blade.

I yelled at the two of them to stop. I yelled at Two-Bit to help. Everyone in the place was looking over, a few coming closer to see, forming a circle around the two of them. I went to rush forward, but felt a hand gently fix on my arm. To my surprise, it was Ponyboy holding me back, his eyes solemn.

"Steve'll handle it," he said, quietly but confidently.

Ricky's friend looked as if he was going to leap in, but Two-Bit flicked out his blade and motioned for him to back off. He did so. So did a proportion of the other customers. A couple of taunts and encouraging noises came from the rest.

All I could hear were the sickening thuds as fists and faces smashed together. I felt like it went on for hours.

Two-Bit's blade vanished as quickly as Ricky's friend as the first note of the siren reached us. The guy shot around the corner of the building like the devil himself was after him.

"Shit." Two-Bit looked around as the cruiser pulled over at an angle across the parking lot. "Steve!" But there was no way they would pay attention. If they hadn't stopped for the siren, they weren't stopping for Two-Bit shouting.

The cops were fast, give them that, they were out of the car and standing over Ricky and Steve before most of the crowd could move.

Ricky was underneath again at this point and the cops had a ringside seat of Steve clocking Ricky hard. I blanched as the first cop kicked Steve in the side to get his attention, then hauled him up and off Ricky. Ponyboy muttered angrily as Steve was pushed face first against the cop car. The second cop was trying to turn Ricky over onto his face, to cuff him. Ricky was not cooperating.

Two-Bit was swearing constantly under his breath, pushing his hair back in a gesture of frustration.

I winced as the cop yanked Steve's hands behind him and cuffed him. He pulled him around and shoved him to stand with his back against the patrol car. Steve's nose was freely dripping blood. He was gasping, trying to catch his breath. He spat some blood to the side.

"Oh my God! Two-Bit, have you got a handkerchief?" I begged. He shook his head, but Ponyboy dragged one out of his pocket. I snatched it from him.

"Wait! Please." I ran over to the policeman. "Look at his nose. It's gonna bleed all over your car." I held out the handkerchief. Steve growled my name like a warning, as he shook his head to try and clear the blood. The cop curled his lip at me in a sneer, but then the other one swore as Ricky bucked, fighting the cuffs, and the one in front of Steve went to kneel on Ricky to help his buddy out.

I pressed the handkerchief to Steve's nose. He had a black eye to look forward to as well, from the redness and swelling. He pulled away, hissing at me angrily to get lost, but I pinched his nose and mopped some of the blood off his face with the material. He shook me off.

"Get out of here! Get Two-Bit to drive ya home," he repeated furiously.

"I can drive myself!" I glared at him, equally angry but a whole lot more frightened for him.

"_Goddamnit_, _Evie_." He shook my hand off and then he seemed to run out of rage and he bent his head down so his forehead bumped mine. More blood splashed down. "I want to know you're safe. Just do as I ask, for once, would ya? _Do it_..." he spoke into my ear. I nodded at him, dumbly, backing away.

Tears slid down my cheeks, as I did as Steve had asked and I walked back over to the Chevy.

The cop reappeared, shoving Steve into the back seat of the cruiser, as Ricky was pushed around to the other side. They took off as we watched.

Two-Bit put his arm around me and steered me towards Steve's car, Ponyboy trailing alongside and darting worried glances at me as I continued crying silently.

"C'mon, sweetie, it ain't like he's goin' to McAlester for a stretch. He'll be out by morning, maybe even earlier if he cools off. I'mma call ya 'Tiny Tears' if ya don't stop bawlin'," Two-Bit said in a teasing tone.

I hit him. Hard. He play acted like I'd broken his arm. That got Ponyboy smiling and talking and I noticed Two-Bit was happy about that.

We discovered the key was in the ignition so Two-Bit wouldn't have to demonstrate hot wiring to Ponyboy. He talked him through it anyway. From the eye rolling and huffing, I gathered Ponyboy didn't think he needed the instruction. Two-Bit pulled out of the lot, tires screeching.

As I hunkered down in the seat, I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand. I wasn't crying about Steve being arrested, whatever Two-Bit and Ponyboy assumed. I wasn't sure why crying had been my reaction.

I stared out the window, not really hearing as Two-Bit complained about the injustice of Steve being hauled in and Ponyboy made extravagant claims about Darry bailing him out within minutes.

I was thinking about when Steve had leaned into me and begged me to do what he wanted. When he'd said _"Just do as I ask, for once, would ya? Do it because...I love you..."_

XxXxX

I came out of my thoughts abruptly as we pulled up outside the Curtis house.

"What are we doin' here?" I snapped. "I thought you were taking me home?"

"I will," Two-Bit said, climbing out to follow Ponyboy. "I had to take the kid home too. 'Sides, Soda'll want to know about Steve, an' Darry might actually be able to help. C'mon, Evie. Come hang a little."

I was surprised enough that he'd actually called me by my name, not to argue with him. As I got out, he came around the car and put his arm on my shoulders.

"This is what we do." He smiled. "We look out for each other." He walked with me up to the house. Ponyboy had already disappeared and Two-Bit simply pushed the door open and then we were inside.

The TV was on and I saw Johnny on the couch. I smiled hello, tried not to stare at the scar cutting down his cheek. He smiled back, but it was a real 'blink and you'll miss it' smile, gone in a split second.

Ponyboy came out of the kitchen with Pepsis in his hand. I thought of the drinks we'd left on the table at the Tasty Freeze. I thought of the jokes we'd been making before Ricky turned up. Two-Bit pulled a face as Ponyboy held the bottle out, so he offered it to me by default.

I took it, because I needed something to do with my hands.

"Cake," Two-Bit said authoritatively, disappearing in the direction Ponyboy had come from.

I was left standing there as Ponyboy dropped onto the couch next to Johnny.

"Uh, where's Steve?" Johnny looked between us.

"Where's Soda?" Ponyboy countered.

"They went for pizza. Soda got a big tip off a customer." Johnny still looked confused. As well he might.

"Here!" Two-Bit deposited a mound of chocolate cake onto the table and steered me to sit down. He shoved the plate towards me. "Eat. Chocolate's good for shock." He had a bottle of beer in his other hand.

"I'm not in shock," I protested.

"Jeez, I fuckin' am." He crammed a huge piece of cake into his mouth, spraying crumbs as he continued. "I thought Steve was gonna kill him."

"Who?" Johnny came over and took a piece of cake also, eating considerably neater than Two-Bit.

"Steve got in a fight. Got hauled in."

"Why?"

"Steve don't need a reason," Ponyboy piped up. Two-Bit looked like he was going to launch into a detailed account, but I noticed a glare that Ponyboy gave him, accompanied by a nod of his head towards me. I remembered how embarrassed he'd been by what Ricky said.

"Oh. Yeah, well. You know Stevie." Two-Bit shrugged unconvincingly.

The sound of the truck outside heralded the embarrassing encounter I'd been dreading. I could hardly care less now, for worrying about Steve.

Darry and Soda came in, with pizza boxes that were immediately ripped open by Two-Bit and Ponyboy, who had moved like lightning from the couch. They all crowded round the table, Soda dragging in another couple of chairs from the kitchen and snatching at the nearest box.

"Where's Steve?" he asked, around a string of cheese that he chased back to the slice dangling in his hand.

"Hello, Evie." Darry smiled, slapping Soda lightly on the back of the head. I smiled back weakly, not quite able to look Darry in the eye.

"Yeah, 'Hello, Evie'. Where's Steve?" Soda grinned. I looked at Two-Bit, who looked at Ponyboy.

"Is that blood?" Darry was looking at my shirt. I looked down. I suddenly found it hard to breath, I really wanted to take the shirt off and had to settle for pulling it away from me and closing my eyes.

"Hey." Darry was next to me, standing me up, steering me towards their bathroom. "Soda. Get a shirt. _A clean one_." He called over his shoulder. It appeared, thrust forward by an anxious Soda who blurted that it was one of Ponyboy's. "Evie, just get changed, okay? Don't worry about your shirt, we'll take care of it later." Darry shut me in their bathroom.

I ripped off my shirt, losing a button in the process and tried to breathe easier. I peered at my bra, my skin. The blood hadn't seeped through. I splashed some water on my face, repairing my eyeliner as best I could and pulled on Ponyboy's shirt. Left mine on the floor.

"..an' the fucker was mouthin' off something awful about.." Two-Bit shut up abruptly as he saw me.

"Yeah." I nodded as I sat at the table again. "He always did have a mouth on him." I took a long drink from the Pepsi I'd left. "Sorry 'bout that." I directed my apology towards Ponyboy, but I couldn't quite look at him.

"The bastard deserved everything Steve laid on him. I'm just sorry Steve got hauled in," he answered angrily. I was surprised at how angry he was. Then more so that no one else seemed to think it was unusual.

"Can we get him out?" Johnny sounded really worried.

Darry looked at the clock. "I reckon he's stuck for tonight. I'll go down, but Pearson don't like to be disturbed after office hours." He shot a significant look at Soda, who squirmed a little. I wondered how they knew that about the Sheriff. "It's the weekend, too. Depends what they charge him with."

"_Disturbing_, that's all it was. They was both fightin', the fuzz won't bother with assault. It's not so bad. He'll just get a bench warrant an' a fine even if they keep him overnight." Two-Bit pushed the pizza box towards me. I shook my head, but I drank some more Pepsi.

Darry was asking who had cash, for bail.

A terrible thought struck me. "They won't...they won't keep him in the same.._place_ as Ricky, will they?"

"Nah, they got more than one holdin' cell." Soda smiled. "Ain't you ever been inside the station?" Darry slapped him on the back of the head again. "What? She might've been visiting!" Soda defended himself.

The 'phone rang. Johnny and I both jumped.

Darry strode over and picked it up. We listened as he said, "Yeah, it's me...Jeez. You too? What? Yep...sure...we'll tell her. Okay...Yep. You keep your head down, y'hear?"

He turned around as he hung up, regarded us all, one by one.

"That was Dally. He's in the cooler, too. Looks bad, reckons he's gettin' ninety days..."


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: I will be without internet for ten days, so I made this a long one. :) I will update as soon as I get back, wait for me! Please still let me know what you think. I look forward to catching up on reviews/PMs when I get back. Not many chapters left now...**

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We waited. Darry had insisted on going down to the station on his own. I could see it made sense, but I could have done without waiting in the guys' company.

Two-Bit was relentlessly cheerful. Ridiculously so, given that we didn't know what, if anything, Steve would be charged with. He was at the table, amusing himself with beer bottles and the empty pizza boxes, shooting comments as they occurred to him. Might have been the first time I didn't actually think he was funny.

Soda was driving me crazy, pacing the room like a tiger in a zoo cage. He started a game of cards with Johnny, left it half way through a hand, watched five minutes of whatever Ponyboy had on the TV, then started pacing again.

I was curled up in the armchair, where I felt out of the way of his circuit. I guess they thought I was still unglued by what had happened. I _was_ worried, I hated the state Steve's face had been in and I didn't know how bad he was hurt, but I was also hugging myself with the memory of the fact that he'd had said he loved me. Really said it. Okay, he was seriously stressed, but _he said it_.

I asked Soda if he was supposed to be seeing Sandy.

"She wasn't sure when she called by the DX earlier. Her stepdad's kind of a hard ass, huh?" He pulled a face. I noticed Ponyboy's attention was on him. I nodded, asked if he'd met the psycho.

"Yeah, I did. He wouldn't let her out one day, so I went over there. He looked like he wanted to kick me in the teeth. Her mom was real sweet though." Yeah, I thought, that was half the problem, the more her stepdad came down hard, the more Sandy's mom indulged her.

Soda leaned on the back of the couch, looking out the window again, although there was no need, we would hear Darry's truck return.

I realised I'd got over the hurdle of meeting Darry again. We'd both been distracted by Steve's situation. I wished we hadn't had that diversion, I'd gladly have put up with any amount of embarrassment instead of Steve being arrested.

Johnny was shuffling the cards; he'd resorted to playing Solitaire when Soda wandered off. He realized I was watching him and he looked over the coffee table at me, shyly. "You wanna play?" He held the cards out. I shook my head. He began shuffling the deck again."Steve'll be okay, he knows how to handle himself with the fuzz. Anywhere, really. Steve's tuff enough," he said, all in a rush, his head down again. I was grateful to him, for trying to make me feel better.

Two-Bit made us all jump as the tower of beer bottles he'd been building crashed onto the table. He rubbed his chin, looking disappointed. "Maybe a pyramid would work better..."

"You drink enough of Darry's beer to build a pyramid an' he'll skin you, when he gets back," Ponyboy called, without taking his eyes from the TV screen. Two-Bit chuckled, didn't seem worried.

Soda leaped towards the front door, snatching it open. Sandy came in. He threw his arms around her, but she squeaked when she saw me and she was past him and onto the arm of the chair, next to me, before he got a kiss in.

"Am I glad to see you! You okay? I was gonna call ya from here. I couldn't get out until just now. I saw Patti on the way over, she said her sister was at the Tasty Freeze an' she saw you and Steve, an' Steve got hauled in? She said, her sister said, there was a _huge_ fight. What the hell happened?"

I blinked under the onslaught of her attention.

"Ricky." That one word shut her up.

She flicked her eyes around the room, taking in the boys in a glance. She stood up, pulling me with her, quelled Soda's objection with one frown, and marched me through the house and out to the back steps.

We sat down and she lit up a weed, handing it over after a quick drag. I didn't really want it but I didn't have the energy to argue with her.

"Spill," Sandy ordered.

"Jeez, I think Patti's sister had it down. They fought. The fuzz came. Here we are."

"Evie, come on." Sandy looked at me, or at least tried to, because I wasn't meeting her eyes. "What the hell?"

"Aw, fuck it. I should never have told Steve about Ricky. _You_ should never have told 'em in the first place." I laid some blame on her. "If he didn't know who he was, this wouldn't have happened."

"What did the bastard do?"

"He was running his mouth. Like always." I told her what he'd said, including the part about Two-Bit and Ponyboy. She hissed with disgust and put her arm around me.

I leaned against her. "It was pretty awful, Steve looked real beat up." If she asked me how Ricky had looked, I wouldn't be able to answer, I hadn't paid any attention to him at all.

Sandy began a long and impressive list of abusive names for Ricky. I found I'd finished the weed after all. I stubbed it out on the step. Looked like someone else used the exact same place plenty of times.

Sandy glanced down at me. "Evie? What in God's name are you wearing?"

_Shit_. My shirt. I jumped up and headed back inside, grabbing my shirt from the floor of the bathroom. I ran it under the cold faucet, scrubbing the two halves of the material against each other. It wasn't helping much, the blood had dried in. I rubbed it on the bar of soap at the side of the basin. Now that I looked around the bathroom, I was kind of impressed. For a place run by three boys, it wasn't as disgusting as might have been expected.

Ponyboy paused in the open doorway. "You wanna just put it in the washer? There's bound to be some stuff waitin' to go in."

I said no and he disappeared, only to return with a box of Tide in one hand and a bottle of Ajax in the other.

"You can't put Ajax on clothes," I said, with a laugh.

"Sure you can." He smiled at me. "It works on oil, grease, all kinds of stuff."

I was pretty sure it would bleach the hell out of my top. Maybe they weren't quite as good on the domestic front as I'd thought. I took the Tide and thanked him. As I was wringing out my shirt, I heard the voices in the front room rising and the door bang, so I abandoned it and shot out of the bathroom.

Darry stood in the middle of the room. By himself.

"Honey, he ain't getting out tonight, I'm sorry." He smiled at me sadly. I realized I must have been looking disappointed. "It's only 'disturbing the peace' though, so that's good. Just a fine. They'll let him out in the morning, before the Saturday night drunk rush."

"They call his dad? Or can you get him out?" Soda was looking worried.

"They called his dad."

Soda muttered, "_Shit_." Now I was worried. Why did he think that was bad?

"Did you see him?" Johnny asked, but Darry said no, heading out of the room. Then he cussed and turned back to us.

"Glory, I completely forgot, Dally asked us to tell Sylvia. Sandy, you wanna call and tell her?"

"Tell her what?"

Oh. We hadn't filled Sandy in on that piece of news yet. She looked pretty pissed at Soda because he hadn't told her immediately she arrived. She demanded that he drive her over to Sylvia's place right then and there.

Soda requested the keys to Steve's car from Two-Bit. Two-Bit started acting like he'd been entrusted with some kind of precious artefact. Soda pointed out that Two-Bit was just crocked enough to wrap said artefact around a tree. Soda won.

I knew that if Dally really did get ninety days, it was far worse than what happened to Steve, but it felt kind of lousy that Sandy had apparently forgotten me, in her haste to get to Sylvia. I asked if they would drop me home, on the way to Sylvia's.

"I can take you." Darry offered.

"Oh, no, that's okay. I mean, they're goin' anyway. An' you just got back in..." I shut my mouth, aware that I was babbling. Darry looked like he was trying real hard not to smile. Maybe I was a bit premature in thinking I'd got over that hurdle. Damn.

I rushed out the door with Soda and Sandy, before anyone else could notice my embarrassment.

Soda was kind of rough on the shift changes, I was sure Steve wouldn't want to hear some of the noises his engine was making. Not that Soda drove bad. Nothing like Dallas. Just that Steve had a feel for the car that made everything he did smoother.

"Soda, baby? Sylvia can still come over tomorrow?" Sandy was all over him. "Even if Dallas isn't there? Oh, and Evie, of course, if Steve's not back?"

"Jeez, I hope he's back." Soda swung the Chevy around a couple of kids playing at the end of my street, yelling at them to move. "It'd be freaky to have _two_ of the guys missing."

I sighed. "Wish I didn't have to work tomorrow."

"Yeah. Me as well. Guess we'll hear when we hear." Soda pulled up outside my house, leaning back over the seat to grin at me. "Don't worry. Steve'll be out, soon as his dad's done chewin' his ear. But of course you can come over, even if he's not." He paused just long enough for me open the door and get one leg out. "Darry'll be pleased to see ya..." He winked at me.

Guess there was once a time when I would never have told Sodapop Curtis what he could do to himself, in those terms. Times change.

XXX

I ran out as soon as I heard the Chevy approaching. Soda smiled at me from the driver's seat. Sandy was pretty dolled up for a night in, which is essentially what was planned.

"Steve said he called ya?" Soda asked me, hitting the gas pedal. "So you know he's at our pad? Turns out he's pretty hopped up on those painkillers he got, he ain't safe to drive. Hell, he ain't safe to walk across the room on his own. He hit the wall twice."

"Don't tell her that." Sandy swatted at his arm. "She's gonna be all worried now."

"I ain't worried." I was, but I didn't want anyone knowing. I asked if we were giving Sylvia a ride. When Sandy told me that Sylvia had said she didn't want to party without Dallas, it was all I could do to stop a smirk growing. I bit my lip hard.

There was definitely a party set up when we arrived. The old couch from the porch had been dragged around in back, together with a couple of chairs. Some complicated arrangement of wiring stretched from the window to the record player, now propped up on a pile of bricks. There was smoke rising from the grill.

A football whistled past my head, Ponyboy diving after it before launching it back towards Johnny. Sandy yelped theatrically, even though it was nowhere near her. Ponyboy apologised, then came over all tongue tied as she smiled at him. She was obviously still working her magic touch there.

"Where's the guest of honor?" I asked, holding up the six pack I'd brought for Two-Bit.

"Good question," Ponyboy said, with quite a bite to his tone.

I was looking round for Steve too. Soda beckoned me into the house. He stopped in the front room.

"Unbelievable," he scoffed. I looked around him and saw Two-Bit stretched out asleep on the couch. "Trust Two-Bit to be too wasted to enjoy his own birthday." He looked at me, shrugging. "I left Steve here."

Darry stuck his head in from the kitchen. "Steve's in your room," he said. "The old room."

I wasn't sure what that distinction meant, but I followed Soda. He pushed open the door to one of the bedrooms.

There were two single beds, either side of a nightstand. Steve was stretched out on one. Soda tossed the car keys onto Steve's jacket, which was on the dresser.

Steve opened his eyes and grinned at us. "Hey, babe, c'mere and gimme a kiss!" He disentangled one arm from under his head and held it out expectantly.

Soda raised his eyebrows at me. "I'm gonna guess that he's talkin' to you." He beat it, leaving me to look at Steve.

He was still grinning at me, waving me over. The black eye I'd suspected was well and truly visible and his lip was cut and swollen. Pretty much the whole side of his face was going to join up in one big bruise soon. Mercifully his nose looked the same shape, so I hoped it hadn't been broken. What freaked me out was the strapping on his right hand, the hand he wasn't holding out impatiently.

I remembered Ricky kneeling on him, the yell of pain he'd made.

I felt my lip wobble as I crossed to the bed.

He looked surprised. "Hey, what's up?"

"_What's up?_ " I was incredulous. "Look at your face!"

Steve crossed his eyes and peered down his nose, then shrugged. "Can't be done. Anyway, I'd rather look at you. Up close. C'mere." He reached out his unbandaged hand and pulled me onto the bed, shifting over to make room for me. He winced a little as he wrapped me in an embrace and kissed me, but then he chuckled.

"Well, this lip thing's gonna piss me off, but I guess I'll haveta work through the pain," he said, cheerfully. He was extraordinarily mellow, but I was still concerned. And guilty.

"Christ, Steve." I touched his face, real gentle. "How can you joke about it?"

"Babe. It's nothin'. I've been worse'n this. Will be again."

I picked up his right hand. "This broken? What about work?"

"Nah. Not broken. Just precau...pre..just in case. Man, these pills the doc gave me are cool, it's like gettin' lit without the effort of drinkin'."

"See? You needed a doctor, it _is_ bad."

"Aw, that was just my old man making a point to the cops. Told 'em they should've got me patched up sooner. I'm fine. It's all groovy." He tried to bend his fingers to demonstrate, but they were strapped too tight. "Anyway," he added, like it had just occurred to him, "the hand is not as impressive as the ribs." He tried and failed to unbutton his shirt, one handed. "You do it." He grinned.

"I am not undressing you here."

"I thought you dug a battle scar, babe? They're a real neat shade of bruise..."

"I don't. I don't dig anything about you fighting. I don't like it," I stated. "Don't do it again."

Steve laughed. "Hell, you'll be askin' me to give up cars next."

Even without the pain meds, I knew he wouldn't take my request seriously. He kissed me, tentatively, careful of his lip. There was nothing hesitant about his hand though. He put his other arm around me, too, then cursed. Impatiently, he used his teeth to pull off the strip holding the end of the bandage, twisting his hand until it fell away, leaving only the two smallest fingers wrapped together with what looked like industrial strength Band-Aids.

"That's better." He sounded mighty pleased with himself, as he slid the hand around and under my top. "I missed you last night," he mumbled into my neck, between kisses. "If I didn't already hate that bastard's guts, I would for that. I had _plans_ for last night..."

"That bastard wasn't worth gettin' arrested over."

"Huh." Steve was rolling on top of me, like we were making out somewhere completely normal. "But you are, Evie. You are totally worth it."

"I love you," I told him. And he said what he always said.

"Me too, babe."

I wasn't testing him, swear to God. But I noticed.

I was relaxing into what he was doing, but still, I felt I ought to point something out. "I'm not sure we should be doing this here."

"Why?"

"It feels a bit weird, in Soda's bed."

"Nah, he sleeps in Pony's room these days." Now that I looked around, there wasn't much stuff in here to suggest anyone used it regularly. "Anyway, this one was Darry's." _Not even going there._

"But you're hurt..."

"All the important bits are in perfect workin' order." Just as he was getting hot and heavy again, the football crashed against the window frame, making us both jump.

"Sorry!" Ponyboy's voice floated through the window.

I wriggled out from under Steve. "Definitely not now. Not with 'em all right outside the window."

"That damn kid," Steve sighed, flopping back onto the pillows. "I swear to God, he is always getting in the way."

"Don't be mean, he digs okay," I said, as I cuddled against Steve.

"Yeah, okay at getting underfoot. He's a genius at that." Steve yawned.

"He was very cool yesterday. Him and Two-Bit. They brought me here."

"Why wouldn't they?" He seemed surprised that I was commenting on it.

I looked around the room again. It was tidy, as I'd noticed, and it had a look of a longtime kid's room; some stickers on the edge of the dresser, a football stuck in the corner, marks on the wall where posters had obviously been.

"How come they don't use this room?" I was wondering why he slept on the couch the nights he stayed over. Maybe it would feel too permanent to him, to take one of the beds.

"Darry just moved into their folks' room." Steve's voice was quiet. "It was, like, a big deal. But they couldn't keep it like a museum, not forever."

"And Soda?"

"Pony don't sleep so good." He paused. "Soda's gonna have an accident at work, one of these days, he keeps losing sleep lookin' after the kid."

That made me think about Steve at the DX. "You sure you're okay to work?" I inspected his damaged hand.

"Yup. Long as – ow – you stop prodding it."

"You didn't need to take Ricky on like that."

"Kinda did. That prick needs putting down like a dog." Steve yawned again.

"He say anything else?" I didn't want to know, but somehow I couldn't let it go.

"Not a word, babe." Something in the way he said it didn't quite ring true. I felt uneasy. Ricky was not the kind of guy to let things slide.

"I saw Dally down there." Steve volunteered. "He's mighty pissed, I can tell ya. Swears he got fitted up for handling stolen goods. Plus the judge called him, on all the fines he's got backed up, said he's gonna make an example of him."

Although Steve didn't sound suspicious about the charge that had taken Dallas down, I was. Dallas was happy to own his rep. If he was complaining he'd been framed, I was inclined to think he had been.

Before I could ask anything else, Soda's voice came through the window. "Hey, you two! You done gettin' it on? There's burgers going cold here."

I sat up, holding my hands out like a magician's assistant, showcasing the window, to demonstrate to Steve that I'd been right to stop him earlier. He laughed easily, so I figured the pills were still working.

Steve did not walk into the wall on the way outside, despite Soda's earlier claim, but he was a little unsteady on the back steps. I grabbed him, although how I thought I'd be able to stop him falling, I don't know. Darry looked up from the grill, poised to catch him.

"You okay, there, buddy?"

"Sure." Steve grinned. "I'm thinkin' these hippy types are onto something with their chemical assistance. I could maybe stand a trip or two."

Darry rolled his eyes and went back to flipping the burgers.

Steve eased onto the old couch and pulled me into his side. Soda acted as waiter, delivering the burgers that were already cooked and we spent a fine time, eating and drinking and arguing over what record to play next. We shouted our selections to Johnny, who was stationed next to the record player, changing discs as he demolished burger after burger. I couldn't believe how much he ate, for a skinny kid. He gave Steve a run for his money.

Ponyboy, who had ignored the food, working his way through a pack of Kools instead, suddenly jumped up, like he'd remembered something. He disappeared into the house for a minute and came back, presenting me with my shirt, clean and dry.

I held it up in the fading light. It looked okay.

"Ajax." Ponyboy said, casually. I admitted defeat and thanked him. Told him I hadn't washed his shirt to return yet. He gave me a shy smile.

"Hey, kid," Steve snapped. Ponyboy took a nervous step back under Steve's glare. "I catch you with your hands in my girl's shirt again, I'mma bust your head."

Ponyboy swallowed, looking like he didn't know whether to run or not. Steve kept his face straight for a second longer, then burst out laughing. Soda chuckled too. Even Darry, who'd come over for a beer, smiled.

"That's not nice." I slapped Steve on the arm. But it was kind of hard not to smile at the way he'd freaked Ponyboy out. Or maybe it was the idea of having his hands in a girl's top that had made Ponyboy so embarrassed. He muttered to himself and went to help Johnny with the records.

It was dark by the time Two-Bit surfaced. He seemed surprised to see us all hanging out. We reminded him it was still his birthday and he perked right up, liberating a beer out of Soda's hand and lounging on the grass in front of us.

"Weren't you supposed to be pickin' up some chick?" Soda commented, real casual, snatching the beer back again. Two-Bit's face went very still. Then he lay down flat, like he was knocked out cold.

"_Shit,_" he groaned. "I was too. Reckon it's too late now?" The general consensus was yes, it was too late to expect any girl to have waited. He sighed dramatically. "Okay. Guess there's nothing else for it then..." He was up and on his feet at the speed of light, grabbing me and hoisting me over his shoulder. I shrieked. "...just gonna have to borrow yours, Randle!" He ran for the house, with me yelling and battering him with my fists and Steve bellowing threats after us.

Two-Bit dropped me unceremoniously by the front steps. "Jeez, Sugar Plum, you ain't as light as you look." He pretended to have hurt his back. I let rip with exactly what I thought of that comment and the whole stunt in general, throwing punches at his chest.

Johnny and Ponyboy had gathered up the records, as Two-Bit's wild run had threatened to take out the record player. Ponyboy's eyes were wide. I wondered if he'd ever heard a girl cuss so much. Johnny headed for the front door with the records and Ponyboy sloped off towards the back of the house.

As I hit him, Two-Bit creased up with laughter, I might as well have been tickling him. "Okay, okay, I take it back, you're light as an itty bitty feather," he wheezed. I flipped him off and stalked back to Steve.

"Mathews, it's lucky for you, my big tuff boyfriend is all about the peace and love tonight," I called, giggling as I settled myself on Steve's lap. He shifted suggestively.

"Peace an' love, sounds like a plan." He nuzzled my neck. "Stay here tonight."

"You really are loaded," I scoffed. "That ain't happening."

"But I might need looking after in the night."

"I know what kind of 'looking after' you're talkin' about, Steve Randle, an' I'm telling you, not in a million years, with Soda and Ponyboy on the other side of the wall."

I watched him think of another angle to try. "But how you gonna get home? Soda and Two-Bit are wasted. You an' Sandy ain't walking, not with the Socs still trawling around." _Oh, nice try,_ I thought. Very concerned and sensible. I smiled.

"Yeah. Guess beer and driving ain't a good mix. Lucky I ain't been drinking beer, then, huh?"

"Huh?" Steve looked at me, warily. I stood up.

"Bet you don't remember where the keys to the Two-Ten are." I walked backwards, smiling at him.

Steve narrowed his eyes at me. "Evie..."

"I'll bring it back in the morning. You'll be fine by then, baby, you'll see."

He went to stand up, wobbled and sat down hard. I was almost at the back steps by then, so he wouldn't have caught me.

The sound of quiet, but angry, voices stopped me as I reached the corner of the house. It was dark, but the house lights threw stripes across the two figures next to the barbeque.

"Ponyboy, you ain't eaten a thing." It sounded like this wasn't Darry's first comment on the matter, his tone was exasperated.

"I ain't hungry."

Darry thrust a plate at him, his expression clouded.

Ponyboy shoved the plate back at Darry. "They're burnt," he grumbled.

"You gotta eat something."

" I don't. I don't want any. They don't taste right."**  
**

"I get it, Pony. Glory, I get it! Mom didn't make 'em, Dad didn't cook 'em. Give me a fuckin' break." Darry threw down the fork he'd been using and strode up the steps into the house.


	19. Chapter 19

**And I'm back. Thanks for waiting. Unless you didn't, in which case I'm talking to myself...**

**Don't own, etc.**

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Ponyboy stalked off around the corner of the house as I moved forward. I don't think he knew I was there. I went up the steps and pushed open the kitchen door gently.

Darry was leaning against the countertop, making short work of a bottle of beer. Obviously I had to act like I hadn't heard anything, so I just smiled and told him I was fetching something from the bedroom.

The keys were still where Soda had thrown them earlier. I picked up Steve's jacket as well, in case he was getting cold. As I headed back, I heard glass break and an exasperated, "Fuck!"

Darry was picking up pieces of beer bottle from the sink. There was a long splash stretching up the wall behind. I hesitated as he cussed to himself. He jumped a little when he turned around and saw me.

"Here." I picked up the lid of the trash can, so he could dump the shards of glass. "Feel better?" I asked him.

He pretended not to know what I was talking about. I shrugged and handed him the dish cloth, looking significantly at the wall. He smiled at me ruefully. But he wiped the wall, tossing the cloth aside afterwards.

"I just...can't do right for doing wrong." He sighed. "If I try to make something like mom did, it's not good enough. If I do something new, that freaks him out too."

He looked so sad. I guess with the way Soda and Ponyboy talked about him being in charge, I saw him like that too. I had never stopped to think what that actually meant. Homework and bills and cleaning up and all that shit, it probably felt like it never ended. I wondered what it would be like if Sarah was really the boss of me, especially if I was as young as Ponyboy. Mom wasn't very effective, but she was still around.

"I'm real sorry about your folks. It ain't been that long."

"I know. Pony's still hurtin' so bad, and I.."

"I wasn't talking about Ponyboy," I interrupted gently. "I meant for you. It ain't been that long for you to have to do everything. You shouldn't be so hard on yourself."

Darry looked completely surprised, like I'd said something no one had ever told him before.

"Me an' Sarah, we learned to do the house stuff gradually, not all at once. I mean, Sarah balances the cheque book now, but Ma got sick over time, so we got a chance to learn how to do it. Same with the cookin' an' all." I shrugged. "Why don'tcha make Ponyboy figure it out, if he don't like what you cook? I don't believe he'd starve himself to make a point. He's a guy. He likes to eat, right?"

"You and Sarah?" He didn't know what I was talking about.

"Yeah. My mom's kind of sick. Not hospital sick or anything," I corrected quickly as he looked concerned. "She's...sad. She got so she wouldn't go out, so we started doing the groceries and then the cooking and...didn't Sarah never tell you when you were _biology partners_?" I put a little tease into their association, even though I knew they had never dated. Square Tony would have been on the scene even then.

Darry shook his head. "She always seemed real happy in school."

"Well, she probably was. We just got used to it. It ain't the same as losing your folks, like you guys did. Like I said, you gotta give yourself some time."

He smiled suddenly. "_Biology partners_. I didn't think you were listening."

"I think it should be the other way around...You shouldn't have listened to me. I was all kinds of stupid that night." I winced at the memory.

"Honey, you brought it up. I was gonna let you forget we ever had a conversation." He winked.

"Well, ain't you gallant." I poked my tongue out at him. But I was glad to see his mood lightened. He reached into the refrigerator, pulled out another beer, asked if I wanted one.

"Oh, no, I'm driving myself home." I held up the keys with a wicked smile.

"Does Randle know that?" His eyes widened in amusement. I nodded, real casual, heading for the door.

"He knows. He don't like it, but he knows."

Sandy, on the other hand, loved the idea of me being the one to give her a ride home. She thought it was a complete gas.

When I went back to the guys, she was practically dragging me to the street right away. She barely gave Soda a goodbye kiss. I picked up my clean shirt, handed Steve his jacket and made sure Soda wasn't too blitzed to help him inside, since Two-Bit was past being trusted to do anything sensible. Steve was almost asleep anyway. So much for his grand plans for us to spend the night together. He winced as I kissed him goodbye, so I reminded Soda to give him some more painkillers.

I should have won an award for how casual I acted as I got in the Chevy. I had never driven it on a real road before. A couple of times at the lake, when Steve was feeling generous, I'd been allowed to drive a little way. I figure you have a perfect window of opportunity, just before or just after making out, to get guys to agree to almost anything. Either they're desperate or they're grateful. Either way works. Plus, he wanted to think his driving lessons were better than any old boyfriend of mine.

I held my breath as I started the engine and I was practically praying that I pulled away smoothly. Pretty sure I heard Two-Bit whooping. Thank God that Sandy waited until we turned a corner to ask me to take her to Sylvia's house. I nearly ran into the curb.

"Are you serious? Now?" I concentrated very hard on driving straight. I wanted to stare her out so bad. Maybe that was why she waited.

"There's a party she said I can go to..."

_Unbelievable_. "The Hell there is! You said she didn't want to party, with Dallas in the cooler."

Sandy waved her hand at that idea. "She didn't wanna spend the evening at _Soda's house_." She made it sound like a church picnic. "This is a real party, not some lame cook out."

At the next junction I hesitated. What should I do? If she had this in mind and I drove her home, she'd just walk right over to Sylvia's anyway. I groaned.

"Come on, Evie. It's no big deal. Just this guy Sylvia knows, he's back from college. He asked her to invite some people. You could come." She beamed like this was the perfect solution. "Don't you feel like dancin'? We just spent Saturday evening sitting in someone's back yard, for Christ's sake."

"Your _boyfriend's _back yard." I snapped. Another car came up behind us, so I had to make a decision about which way to turn. Damn.

"Well, I could've invited him, but he's too drunk to dance, ain't he? And Steve ain't dancing any time soon." She changed that tactic when I growled in annoyance. "Why is it always up to them what we do? Why can't we decide how to have a little fun?"

"There ain't no 'we' in this. It'll be a cold day in Hell before I party with Sylvia fuckin' Richardson behind _my_ boyfriend's back." But even as I said it, we were there. Sylvia's house. I braked, maybe a little too hard.

"Evie, it's only a party. It don't mean I'm gonna get with someone else. You used to be more fun. I swear Steve's moodiness is rubbin' off on you." Sandy laughed as she got out. _Bitch,_ I thought, biting back that it was a shame some of Sodapop's devotion wasn't rubbing off on her.

She leaned back into the car window and smiled some more. "I said I'd probably be staying over at yours. So, I'll see you tomorrow sometime. That's okay, isn't it?" She was gone, before I could argue.

As I drove away, I was tempted to put my foot down hard. I could suddenly understand the appeal of driving real fast, maybe even racing someone for the sheer hell of it. I didn't. I drove like a little old lady with an open fish tank on the back seat. I parked carefully in front of my house and only when the engine was off and the keys in my hand did I yell the names I wanted to call Sandy. And myself.

I knew she would have gone with Sylvia, regardless of my involvement, but I felt implicated now. Guilt by association. Accessory before the fact. _Shit_.

Sarah opened the door as I reached the porch. She looked past me, ready to do her guard dog act. I held up the car key.

"No Steve. Just me."

"You drove off and left him somewhere?"

I smiled, despite my mood. "Nah. I hit him over the head and locked the body in the trunk. Came back for a shovel. Do we have a shovel?"

I tossed my shirt onto the stairs and headed for the kitchen. She followed me. The cabinet under the sink was open and I saw the largest casserole dish poking out.

"It's leaking again," Sarah told me, unnecessarily, as I poured myself a glass of water. "Tony's coming over in the morning."

I rolled my eyes. Tony wasn't the handiest guy I could think of asking for help. That reminded me of the conversation earlier.

"I was at the Curtises tonight. I bet Darry would take a look at the pipe if we ask."

"Darry? I ain't seen him since school." She smiled. "Why would he want to look at our plumbing?"

I shrugged, trying to think how to compare the two guys without being accused of running down her precious Tony. Even Steve or Soda would have a better chance of fixing whatever was wrong than the dry cleaning king.

"I think we could barter some cooking for some house repairs. They're just boys, y'know, I think they live on cake and fried eggs. And they put Ajax on their clothes." I knew that would freak her right out. It was kind of mean though, because it had worked on my shirt.

Sarah's expression flitted from horrified to sad to 'wanting to interfere in someone else's life'. I hoped I hadn't just unleashed a whirlwind of care packages on the Curtis boys.

"They do okay." I backtracked quickly. "Like us."

"What do you mean 'like us'?"

"Well, we do okay, huh? I mean, we can look after ourselves. Hell, I could probably figure out that pipe..." I peered rather unconvincingly at the cabinet.

Sarah was quiet for a minute.

"Evie. We won't always be here though, will we?" It was a statement really, not a question. "We should talk sometime about what would happen, if one of us, y'know, moved out."

I stared at her. _One of us?_ Like her, for instance? Where was I going, at nearly seventeen, on minimum wage and all the half dead flowers I could carry?

"You got something to tell me?" It came out a little harsher than I intended, but she'd rattled me.

"No. Just thinkin' about 'sometime', is all. It's gonna be different, if one of us goes. Because of Ma."

"So only one us gets to escape? That what you're saying? Whoever gets left behind, gets to look after Ma forever?" This had honestly never occurred to me before. Maybe I'd held some childish hope that Ma would one day be better, that the pills would do more than keep her half asleep in front of the TV. "Christ, Sarah, if y'all had told me it was a race, I'd have been shacked up with Steve by now!"

She wrinkled her nose at my choice of words. "That ain't what I'm saying, Evie. C'mon. I just think we oughta consider what might happen. I mean, I'm qualified now, I'm getting my own clients at the salon, me and Tony are savin' real hard."

I felt slightly sick. I mean, I hated her bossing me around, whether I listened to her or not, but at least she was there. If she married Tony and moved out, what did that leave me? I emptied my glass of water into the sink, not caring if it leaked straight into the casserole dish, and grabbed a Pepsi from the fridge.

"You know what, Sarah? You please yourself. It don't make no difference to me what you do." I ignored her calling me back and shut myself into my room. The vodka was warm when it hit the Pepsi, the bottle had been sitting on my dresser, in the sun all day. But I drank it anyway.

XXX

I woke up earlier than I wanted to. I wasn't particularly hung over. I put my headache down to lying awake and worrying over Sandy. Sarah's bombshell I'd tried to push to the back of my mind. I didn't want to have to address that anytime soon.

The two things were kind of intertwined though. Because the more I thought about Sandy and Sylvia, the more it made me feel like I was different. _Steve and_ _I _were different. There was no way I was interested in running around on him – I was kidding myself to think anything else about Sandy now – because I wanted to be with him for always.

I figured that was what I felt, when I realized that I loved him. And being with Steve 'for always' ran right into what Sarah had talked about. Because what were my options? Scrimp and save forever for a white wedding? Yeah, right. Even Sarah'd get a laugh out of that. Besides, I had no issue with me and Steve just getting a place. I didn't have to be a full blown hippy to imagine us living together. Plenty of people were doing it. But money would make that impossible until he graduated. And what were the chances that Sarah would be married before next summer? Pretty high if she was bringing it up now.

That meant I was going to be the one left behind. I was the one who would have to look after Ma, the house, her prescriptions, the cooking.

No wonder I hadn't slept much.

I was in no mood to listen to Sandy's bullshit when she waltzed up to see me. She told me anyway.

I resented that she was so happy. That she was pleased with herself, when I was guilty as all get-out and I hadn't even done anything.

She lay on my bed, telling me all about the party, telling me all about the guy whose party it was. _Charles_. A king size, rich as fuck, Soc. She said he hadn't touched her, but she was always a real good liar.

All I could think was, how would I look Soda in the eye?

I said as much to her and she laughed at me. That's what hurt. She didn't tell me to shut up or threaten me to keep quiet. She just laughed, patronisingly, as if I couldn't possibly understand.

Guess she was right.

She got fed up eventually and walked home. I could have driven her quite easily, but I didn't offer and she didn't ask. Maybe she did understand how pissed with her I was.

I damn near chewed my lip off on the drive back to the Curtis house. It wasn't even the driving, I was just thinking about how to act normal around Soda.

As things worked out, I didn't have to worry.

When I pulled up, they came right out. Must have been waiting. Soda was bouncing like a goddamn Jack in the Box. Steve was walking a little slower, but in a straight line, so I figured he was finished with the pain pills. His eye was all kinds of colors.

"I missed you, baby," Steve crooned. I didn't rise to it. I knew damn well he was talking to the car and I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"I thought she was running a little fast." I told him, casually.

"Just how I like my cars _and_ my girls," he shot back. I tossed him the key. He caught it and then he moved in to kiss me hello.

"Uh. Guys? " Soda's voice interrupted us. He'd wandered around to the passenger side of the Chevy and was looking at it with wide eyes. Steve raised an eyebrow at me. I knew nothing to tell him. We walked around to where Soda stood.

The entire side was keyed, in a continuous line that snaked across the paintwork from one bumper to the other.

* * *

**Oh, no! Who would do such a thing? And will they stop there?**


	20. Chapter 20

I saw this movie once, I forget what it was called, some lame adventure thing. What I do remember was seeing this volcano that exploded. They must have wanted to get their money's worth out of the shot, because it was filmed from left, right and in between. Up close.

Kind of looked like Steve.

I swear they could have heard him yell clean across the river, all the way out to Glenpool.

Soda took my arm and guided me over to their porch and we watched Steve scream and cuss, kicking at tiny rocks which offended him by being on the road.

"I'm guessing you didn't know that scratch was there?" Soda said, conversationally. He offered me a stick of gum.

I shook my head at him, my eyes on Steve, who was now clenching his fists and glaring at the side of the car so hard, it was like he expected to melt the paint and repair the damage with heat vision, like Superman. If anything, it was his language that was hot enough to melt the metal.

"Well, the best we can say is, he was gonna get a custom paint job sometime. This has moved it up, is all." Soda was chuckling. Actually chuckling, as he leaned on the porch rail. "Get you a drink?"

I looked at him in disbelief. "What? No. No, thanks."

The front door opened and Ponyboy looked out, yawning. "What in hell is..? Oh, it's him. _It's just Steve_," he called over his shoulder, presumably to Darry. Ponyboy and Soda nodded at each other cheerfully and he disappeared back inside.

"Are you all crocked still? He's gonna burst a blood vessel, or something." I watched as Steve ground his teeth before starting on another round of curses, pacing backwards and forwards.

"Nah, he might yell a little longer than usual, seeing as his knuckles are still busted." When I looked none the wiser, Soda explained further. "He would punch something, normally. The wall, the dirt..."

"The car?" I added in. He looked shocked.

"Jeez, no. _Not_ the car. Why, it's like you don't know him at all." He grinned. "Ain't you seen him like this before?"

I shrugged. "Seen him in fights, obviously."

"Ah, but when he's mad an' he ain't got anyone to fight. That's when he's worth watching."

"Are you enjoying this?"

Soda winked at me.

The front door opened again and Two-Bit came out, rubbing his face, looking like he was just waking up.

Steve picked up a small rock from the sidewalk and hurled it down the road. Two-Bit cocked his eyebrow at Soda, with a curious expression.

"Someone keyed the Chevy," Soda explained.

Two-Bit whistled, ducked back inside and reappeared with a pack of Camels in his hand.

As Steve began walking up the path, Two-Bit lit up and held out the cigarette. Steve almost stamped right through the porch steps. He took the weed without comment and sucked on it like he could inhale the whole thing in one go.

"Baby.." I didn't get any further, because Two-Bit held his hand up to stop me. So I stood there quietly with them, as Steve finished the cigarette.

In a short time, Steve ground out the butt and took a deep breath, shoving his hands into his jeans' pockets. Two-Bit stood back and waved me on, like an old time gentleman bowing to a lady. I hesitated.

"Go on." He elbowed me. "The pin's back in." I had no idea what he was talking about. Steve obviously did because he flipped off Two-Bit without looking in his direction.

"Baby, I'm real sorry," I said to Steve. He looked at me as if I were crazy.

"What you apologizin' for? I know you didn't do it."

"Yeah, but it must've happened at my house."

"Christ, we all live in the same heap of shit neighbourhood. What we gonna do, park on the South side and walk home?" He wasn't exactly joking, there was still some bite to his tone, but it was a damn sight more calm than I'd expected him to be. I guessed the lava was done flowing for the moment.

All in all, my first time driving the Two-Ten went okay then. Steve probably thought it was my _last _time too, but I could work on that.

Two-Bit stretched and lit himself a cigarette, hopping down the steps and wandering away to wherever it was he was supposed to be.

"You want a drink now?" Soda paused in the doorway. I shook my head. "Steve?"

"Nah." Steve pulled me onto the old couch, which was back in place. "I'mma sit out here and feel my girl up some."

Soda went inside, creased up with laughter. I objected to Steve saying that quite so explicitly. But I still let him. His hand seemed to be working without giving him much pain, which was a good thing. Because of work, obviously. His lip was looking a little better, much less swollen, but it was still sore. He kept kissing me though. We only broke apart when I accidentally bumped his nose and he flinched away.

The reminders of his encounter with Ricky were going to be a long time disappearing. I eyed the Chevy thoughtfully, as I cuddled into Steve.

Of course, Sandy had used her key to take up for me in the past, to get back at that kid from Claremore. Would she do it to get back at me, for not approving of her partying? Somehow, I just couldn't see it. No, I was pretty sure I had a better suspect; someone weaselly enough to lurk in the dark for their petty revenge.

If I told Steve what I suspected, he might hunt Ricky down. I knew the guys were still trying to get Johnny to identify the Socs who had jumped him. Pay back was a way of life round here, it seemed.

I was pleased that Steve did what he did for me. I was beyond glad to see Ricky get what he deserved. I supposed that made me a hypocrite, liking violence being punished with violence. I'd just have to live with that.

What I didn't want was Ricky taking it further now.

"Do you see a pattern here?" Steve asked, making me jump back to the present. For a second I thought he was reading my mind. He gestured at us cuddled up. "'Cause, Sundays on front porches seem to be becoming a thing for us."

"Yeah, but you didn't have to sleep out here last night."

"And you didn't hurl. I assume." _Ouch._

"Nope. Didn't tell Darry I wanted to kiss his face off, neither."

"Hey! That wasn't..." He shut up when he realized I was teasing. "What you wanna do today? Go for a drive, just us?"

"You safe to drive? 'Cause I can always..."

"_Oh, no you don't_. I'm fine. Christ, if I was half dead I wouldn't take those things again. I don't even remember going to bed. Twenty four hours without drivin' is like twenty four hours without..."

"Me?" I smiled innocently.

"Okay. I was goin' for 'smokes' but yeah, that'll do. '_Twenty four hours without you, babe_.'"

I narrowed my eyes, looking him up and down.

"What are you looking at?" he demanded.

"I'm just working out which bits aren't bruised yet, so I can belt ya." I said sweetly. Steve grinned.

"Come for that drive an' I'll show you."

We yelled goodbye through the screen door. As I went around to the passenger side and saw the scratch, I grimaced at the thought of Ricky outside my house in the middle of the night.

I could have been wrong. It could have just been kids' stuff. The kind of thing baby hoods dared each other to do. Hell, I'd seen Dallas do it for whatever warped kicks it gave him.

So I didn't tell Steve what I suspected.

I didn't tell him about the dead flowers that turned up on my porch, a week later, either. A discarded funeral wreath from the cemetery, presumably.

Or the fact that a week after that, I received a newspaper cutting in the mail. It was a small article about a gas station just outside Oklahoma City that had caught fire, the workshop being reduced to cinders. _'One mechanic was tragically killed, when the fire broke out late in the evening..'_ had been underlined.

XXX

I scowled at Sandy. She pretended not to see.

Sylvia picked up yet another nail polish and held it up for inspection. "Nah. Too boring." She put it back on the display. "Oh, unless you'd like it, Evie?" Her voice dripped sweetened poison.

"No, thanks." I smiled. Inside my head I was ramming it up her nose whilst telling her exactly what I thought of her. That was the only reason I was smiling.

"So we're set for Friday, then? While the boys are at the stupid drag race?" Sandy repeated, passing Sylvia a bottle from her side of the rack. She meant _our_ boys, since Dallas was out of the picture. Sylvia didn't even flinch.

"This is better." Sylvia turned it over to see the name. "I like it. 'Passionate Paris Nights' it is. And, yeah, Evie, another '_girls' night'_, right?"

"I like drag races," I commented obstinately, although I knew it was useless.

"Oh, Evie. That's not the point and you know it." Sandy sighed.

Sylvia scoffed at me. "Yeah, like you're not going to see enough of those, you keep hanging around Randle. _Boring_. This party will be a blast like last time." Sure, wasted college idiots, playing in their parents' houses because they didn't have to work their summer vacation, like ordinary people.

"I'm not going." Which she knew full well. I was a little surprised she was going herself, given her sleazy affair with the cop had no barrier, now that Dallas had been in the cooler for a month. But Sylvia was apparently still open to all offers of fun, paid for by other people. I kept waiting for Sandy to give some hint she knew about the cop, but she never did. But then, she'd always been real good with secrets.

I was sorry that Dallas was inside, but it gave me some satisfaction that Sylvia couldn't follow through on her threat to tell him about Steve. I had Steve safe on that front for the moment. Maybe, just maybe, her cop _would_ take her away in a few weeks, and the whole sorry mess would evaporate.

There hadn't been any mysterious deliveries for over a week. I was pretty much keeping everything crossed that Ricky had got fed up. I knew he held grudges, but I hadn't seen him, or his stupid car, around the neighborhood. By not telling Steve, I hoped I'd avoided things escalating there. Watching his bruises fade over the days after his arrest, knowing he had the fine to pay, had made me determined to keep him away from Ricky.

And just as I'd come to terms with having that on my conscience too, Sandy announced this fucking 'girls night'.

Too many secrets.

"You're still covering for us, right? Evie, you promised." Sandy threaded her arm through mine as we left the drug store. "It's just a party, a bit of fun."

I'd heard that before.

I told her she was going to get found out. She shrugged. She thought it wasn't going to matter, that she was moving on from Sodapop Curtis and the North side. Moving up.

"How can you be so cruel? He loves you." I was almost beyond anger, but I still wanted her to think about what she was doing.

Sandy made a dismissive gesture, waving away Soda and his feelings. "He does not. He thinks he does, but he'll get over it. He's just hung up on having what his folks had, is all. He can get that with any girl."

I stared at her. From what I'd picked up on, whatever Mr and Mrs Curtis had had, was worth replicating. Most of the guys had mentioned them in passing at one time or another. Glory, even Sylvia seemed to have respected Mrs Curtis and whatever influence she'd had on Dallas.

I knew that Sandy had no apple pie family of her own for reference, but then neither did I. Didn't mean I didn't think it would be nice. Maybe picket fences didn't stay white, or even whole, for long in this neighborhood, but I didn't see anything wrong in imagining one.

The difference was, my daydreams involved a very real auto mechanic coming home to me, not some imaginary lawyer or banker or whatever Sandy was setting her sights on.

I could suddenly see why Soda had put up with all Sandy's game playing, if he was thinking of a future with her. It was only six months or so since he'd lost his parents, I could understand him wanting to recreate that family, that home.

"His folks were nice, I hear." I felt the need to defend him.

"Sure, _perfect_...perfectly boring. I don't want boring. I don't want to count every penny, every month. I want cars and a swimming pool and vacations twice a year! Did I tell you Charles said he'd take me to his family's ski lodge?" She went on about all the promises this Charles had made her.

I remembered when I'd been so surprised that she'd snagged Soda for a date at the dance. And then that she got him to go steady. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she did have what it took to get what she wanted. I was still a little sad that what she wanted was on the South side, and that it would hurt Soda when she told him, but it was her life.

And here I was, covering for her again. What did that say about me? Guess I wasn't as strong as I thought.

We caught up to Sylvia, looking in the window of a hip new boutique. "Hey, this'd go great with that dress, look." Sylvia held up the nail polish. We hadn't stopped for her to pay for it, needless to say. "You wanna get something like that, Sandy." She pointed to another dress. "They'll eat you up."

As I walked away, I heard her whispering.

"They only invite the prettiest girls, you know they probably wouldn't want Evie there, anyway."

Fuck her. And fuck her pathetic frat parties too.

"I gotta go," I called to Sandy. I was on my lunch break. They had all day to window shop. She ran after me.

"Evie. It's just a little white lie. They're out having fun, I don't see why we should sit at home." This was an old argument. And I didn't have time to go into it again. I had called them on the fact the guys might roll around drunk to my house, like they did before. Sandy had that covered. She'd tell Soda some story about why they absolutely couldn't do that and it wouldn't be a problem, she said. Probably freak him out by hinting it was her time of the month or something, poor guy.

"I said okay," I told her. She hugged me quickly.

"Don't forget to get Ponyboy a birthday card." I reminded her, with a sigh.

"Thanks, Evie. You're the best."

Except I wasn't.

What I'd been worried about all that time ago had really happened. But the worst thing about losing my best friend wasn't even that it was to Sylvia. It was the fact that Sandy was happy to go.

She'd stopped coming round on Sundays, now that it was obvious I didn't want to hear her stories. Even Sarah had noticed that. But that was okay. Steve was working practically full time now it was summer, so Sundays were our free days together. Sometimes we didn't see another soul, just spent the whole day together. We drove until we found somewhere out of town, parked up, watched the clouds go by as we lay on a blanket he kept in the trunk. We went for miles, anywhere we could find a place to be alone. Heading home only when we were starving, our noses sunburned and our lips swollen from hours of kissing.

In that part of my life, everything was beyond groovy.

I missed Sandy.

It was why I agreed to these 'shopping' trips, even though Sylvia was inevitably there. It was why I was keeping quiet again. For Sandy. It was the price I was paying to hold onto my friend, even as she was slipping away from me. I could see it clearly, but I couldn't stop myself doing it.

I felt like one of those guys you see at the circus, keeping all the plates spinning on those wobbly canes.

I was adamant I wouldn't outright lie to Steve about the 'girls' night'. But I knew, if I didn't bring the subject up, he wouldn't. This week, he and Soda were all fired up for the race, that's where his mind was.

My mind sure wasn't on where I was going. It was real hot weather, promising to hit 95 degrees for Ponyboy's birthday. I headed down the service alley, not looking forward to another afternoon trying to stop the flowers wilting before we'd even finished tying the bouquets and arrangements.

I practically walked into the guy in the filthy denim jacket.

That was because he lunged out at me, landing across my path, trapping me between the dumpster and the side wall of the store next to Marian's. His hand on the wall had the lines and shadows of tattoos that looked familiar. And I knew who'd sent him. _Shit._

"Hell, I was beginnin' to wonder if you was comin' back." He breathed a heady mix of alcohol and tobacco over me. I turned to head back the way I'd come. But he was quick, for a dumb sounding bastard. He pinched my upper arm in his fist, pressing me hard against the wall, flicking out a fairly small blade with the other hand, which ensured I didn't knee him.

"Ricky says hello." He leered at me, holding the blade in front of my face.

"Fuck off, before I scream," I snapped.

"Ooh, I like screamers. Ricky said I could expect to get some noise outta ya."

I shut my mouth. He chuckled, lowering the switch so it was out of my eye line. I felt it edge down my neck to my collar bone. He wasn't cutting me, just using the flat of the blade, but I hardly dared breathe. His other hand slid across from my bruised arm to squeeze my breast. I tried very hard not to react.

"Ricky didn't 'preciate getting hauled in because of your fuckin' boyfriend. He wanted you to know, he _will _have a good alibi, when the fucker gets what's coming to him, but it _will_ be special delivery from him, all the same." That sounded about Ricky's level, getting someone else to do his dirty work. Just clever enough to leave a gap of time after the fight, not to be too obvious.

"Ricky can go fuck himself, he got what he deserved," I said, hoping my voice sounded more defiant that I felt.

"I'mma make sure your boyfriend is taken right outta the picture." He snarled in my ear, his hand moving lower. "He ain't comin' up for air. 'Cause guess what Ricky says we get as a reward?" He slid his hand between my legs, whispering his filthy promises. Despite the knife, I twisted involuntarily and he let me go, laughing as he walked away.

It took me a minute or so to be able to walk calmly back to work. I was scared still, but I was also good and mad. This hadn't been entirely a surprise. I knew Ricky better than he thought.

I knew what I had to do now.

XXX

Friday night was perfect. Steve was well out of the way at the race, I had the whole evening to do what I needed to.

I retraced the wild drive I'd taken with Dallas. It took me longer than I wanted to walk over there and find the right place. Eventually I recognized the boarded up, but busted open, door. I supposed that it looked like any other one of the derelict buildings when the door was pushed shut.

I walked up to the building. A skinny guy was lounging on the wall. Casual, for a look out.

He checked me out, pausing to smile at my sneakers.

"You ready to run home, baby doll?"

If blushing was my thing, I'd have been doing it then. That was too close to the truth. Instead I kept my voice calm, my face unconcerned, as I answered.

"I want to talk to Tim."

* * *

Is Evie doing the right thing?

How do we feel about this length of chapter? Too long? 3 or 4 to go until the end...


	21. Chapter 21

The skinny guy shrugged. "Who?" Oh, he was trying to be a good guard dog. "Maybe I can help you, instead, baby doll." He came real close, close enough that I took a step backwards. I shook my head and repeated my request.

"I want to talk to Tim."

The guy smirked. "How'd you even know to look for him here?"

Before I could answer, Tim walked out of the door. "Take a walk, spaghetti," he said, bizarrely. I only worked out that he was talking to the skinny guy when he then moved away from me, ducking inside the building.

Tim looked thoughtfully at me. "This is...unexpected."

I stared him out. He raised an eyebrow.

"Did we not cover the fact that you shouldn't get in the habit of being places you ain't meant to be?"

I had to clear my throat a little. It was a dusty walk. "I need some help with something."

"Aw, I thought maybe you came to shoot a little pool."

"Do you have a pool table in...?" I stopped as I realized he was laughing at me. When he did so, the scar on his face was no longer so distracting, his dark eyes were so full of life.

"What d'ya need, sweetheart?" He beckoned me to walk a little way from the building with him, into the shadows of the next warehouse over. I wondered if he didn't want any of his boys to hear us talking. I wondered if they were watching us from behind the boarded up windows.

Now that I was here, facing him, it felt almost ridiculous to say it out loud. I focused on how scared I'd been when the creep had caught me in the alley. How I'd felt sick to my stomach when I got the newspaper cutting in the mail. Not for me. I wasn't doing this for me.

"I need someone to disappear."

"_You what?" _ Shit, he wasn't going to make this easy.

"This guy. The one Steve got into a fight with. He isn't letting it go, he threatened to..."

"Whoa, hold on." Tim interrupted, lighting a weed. He shook out the match he'd used, tossing it aside, watching me through the smoke of his first drag. "I have to say, sweetheart, Randle ain't gonna like that you're fighting his battles. You're kinda suggesting he ain't tough enough to handle this other guy..."

I shook my head impatiently. "No. It ain't like that. In a fair fight, of course Steve could take him. Hell, he did. You must've heard?" I knew the fight had been well discussed. "But Ricky ain't about fighting fair, he's gonna get his buddies to jump Steve and knife him, or worse. Then they'll hurt me. He sent me a message to say that was going to happen."

"He what?"

I told him about the deliveries, the guy in the alley. Tim's eyes narrowed when I repeated what he'd said they'd do to me. I was explicit. I was banking on him being old fashioned enough that the threats to me would swing his decision to help. I hoped that it wasn't just his sister he felt that way about.

"What did Randle say 'bout that?" When I hesitated, Tim exhaled sharply in annoyance. "Aw, c'mon, sweetheart, you told him?" He grimaced when I shook my head.

I bit my lip. "I want Steve kept right out of it. I don't want no come back on him. Nothing Ricky can blame on him. Nothing the fuzz can tie to him." That was very close to the truth. I was afraid that Steve would be angry enough to kill Ricky. I had no desire to see the consequences of that. Tim and his whole gang were expendable to me, if anything went wrong.

Tim took a couple of drags of his cigarette, studying me like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "So what d'ya expect me to do about it?"

"You did say the words 'I owe you'." I challenged.

"Oh, I did, did I?"

"Outside Buck's..."

"_I remember_. I don't think this was quite what I had in mind, when I imagined us keeping a secret from your boyfriend." He had a glint in his eye.

I shrugged, ignoring his insinuation. "Can't say it would have occurred to me, at the time."

"Okay, then, what you thinking now?"

"What happened to the creep who hurt Angela?"

The other smile was back. The one that didn't make him look attractive, the one that I needed. Tim didn't say a word.

I nodded. "See, if he disappeared, the way I think he did, Ricky could too. He's got a record. Assault. Drugs. He's on probation right now. What would he need to be caught with, to send him back inside for a long time?"

"Any number of things...but just because he's holdin', don't mean he gets picked up at the right time. Even then he might wriggle off the charge."

"I can take care of that."

Tim opened his mouth to ask something, then changed his mind. "Forget it, I don't think I wanna know." He shook his head. But I could see him wavering. "What's this fucker's name again?"

I told him. Tim frowned thoughtfully. "I know about him. I also know someone else who'd be happy to see him..._disappear_, as you put it. He's been making a nuisance of himself down by the river."

I had no doubt Ricky had pissed off any number of people. If that included the River Kings, my idea just got a whole lot more workable.

I smiled at Tim.

XXX

I asked Marian for a long lunch break on Saturday. I told her I had an important errand to run. I caught the bus as if I was heading home, but I got off early, walked along the street for the second time, thinking back to my first visit.

I didn't need to knock on the door this time. There was a good looking guy reading the paper on the front step. Prison short hair, but better quality tattoos. He was maybe twenty or so. He looked like a muscled version of Trey, so I assumed this was Buzz, enjoying his new liberty. He sipped a beer, watching me without comment as I walked up to the house. I noticed the dog was tied to the other end of the porch, asleep, which made me considerably happier.

"Sylvia in?" I kept my tone friendly, ignoring the way he looked me over.

"In, but still passed out."

I shrugged. "Mind if I...?" I walked past him without waiting for an answer, straight into the house. Someone was clattering in the kitchen but I headed up the stairs, like I knew where I was going.

The bathroom door was wide open and the one next to it had the same kind of music blasting from it that I'd heard last time, so I took a chance on the door opposite. The room was only half darkened by a thin blind, I could see her easily. The air was thick with cheap scent and unwashed sheets.

I shut the door behind me and let the blind all the way up.

"The fuck...?" Sylvia opened her eyes. Then shut them again, like she thought she was dreaming. I kicked the end of her mattress. She squinted at me. "Evie? What in God's name are you...?"

"Shut up and listen," I told her sharply.

Sylvia sat up, scrubbing her hair back out of her eyes. She hadn't taken her make up or clothes off before falling into bed and she looked like a poster child for a campaign against delinquency and fallen virtue.

"You need to tell _Jack_ to pick up and charge someone. I'll give you the details. It's gonna happen tonight and it's gonna happen where I tell you."

"Are you high? What the fuck are you talkin' about?" Sylvia searched her night stand for a pack of Kools. I snatched them away from her.

"Pay attention, Sylvia. This is important."

"Why should I? Why should he do anything you say?"

I leaned across, to look her right in the eye. "Because if he don't, I'mma tell his boss _and_ his wife about you." I repeated his address. And for good measure, his wife's name. It had been easy to find after a few pointers from Tim. Sylvia's eyes went wide. I smiled. "You tell Jack to do it. It'll be a big collar for him, he'll like that part."

"An' if I don't?" She was still belligerent, although I could see in her eyes she was afraid.

"Then I'll tell _him_ about the parties at Charles's house."

I really hoped I'd read her right, that she still wanted the cop more than anything else, that this particular threat was enough. Sylvia licked her lips nervously. I knew I'd got her.

"And while we're on the subject," I continued. "You can forget about ever telling Dallas about Steve. Or the message about you still gets back to Jack's boss. Savvy?"

She nodded.

"Okay then. Listen up..."

XXX

We went to The Dingo. Steve was kind of surprised that I was the one who suggested it. Usually, it wasn't my favourite hangout on a Saturday night, too many hoods passing through. Of course, that night it was useful. I persuaded Steve I had a craving for their onion rings, since the rest of their food was rank. He didn't notice that I still let him eat most of them.

We'd bagged one of the tables outside. I'd insisted it was too warm to sit inside. The fact I now had a view of the whole parking lot meant nothing to the others, of course. We waved to a few people as they came and went, but many of them were on their own dates, so they didn't join us.

Sandy was quiet. I hadn't see her since the day I met Ricky's stooge. She was also being very affectionate to Soda. I couldn't believe this was just for my benefit. I wondered if the party hadn't gone as well as she wanted. Or maybe she finally had the guilts. If Steve or Soda brought up the 'girls' night' in conversation, I was tempted to let her twist in the wind.

"What gives?" I demanded, once we were in the bathroom. I hate all that 'girls have to go pee at the same time' garbage but I wanted to talk to her. And it was early, I didn't need to be outside just yet. She tried to make out she didn't know what I was getting at. I pointed out that I'd known her a long time and I waited.

She sighed at herself in the mirror, poking at her hair unnecessarily, smoothing her top and skirt. Eventually she rounded on me. "I suppose you're happy now? I had a horrible time on Friday. It wasn't anything like the first party." She pouted, daring me to crow.

I didn't know what she expected me to say. Yes, I _was_ happy, if it meant the lying was over. But not if it meant she was back to being dissatisfied with her life. I wondered if she was simply someone who would never have what she thought she wanted. If she would always be chasing something brighter, something more exciting.

Six months ago, she'd have been dancing on tables at the thought of having Soda as a steady boyfriend. But then, six months ago, I'd have been horrified at the idea of Steve and I as a couple. I smiled as I remembered the way he'd kissed me when he picked me up earlier. The boy was hot as Hell.

"See? You think I deserved to have a crappy time. Go on then, fuckin' tell me you told me so." Sandy leapt on the fact I was smiling.

"Did I say that?" I snapped back. "But, Christ, Sandy, I ain't sorry if it means you're over this."

She sniffed, making out like she was the aggrieved party. But like I said, I'd known her a long time. I waited a moment, then I nudged her and nodded at something I'd noticed written on the wall. It was a variation on 'There once was a girl from Nantucket...' And it was about Sylvia.

It was actually quite well written, it scanned and everything. And it was all the funnier, because she was really famous for the skill it was talking about.

Sandy bit her lip, but couldn't stop a giggle bursting out. "Did you write that?"

"I wish I had!" I laughed. She grinned at me and I knew we were okay. I hoped that meant she and Soda would be okay too.

As we headed out, a couple of girls were coming towards the bathroom. They were younger than us, dolled up and teetering like they'd never worn heels before.

"I can't believe you did that!" One was hissing to the other in awe. "You gave _Sodapop Curtis_ your number." They stopped short as they recognised us. We paused, effectively blocking their way.

Sandy folded her arms, staring them down, her eyes flashing as she smiled slowly. The one who'd spoken ducked behind her friend with a squeak. Sandy glanced at me and I gave a fantastically evil smile back. She walked forward, speaking to them quietly and slowly.

"Out. Of. Your. League." She swept them aside. I followed, listening to them scurry away into the bathroom. We made it as far as the main door before we collapsed into laughter, doing impressions of their frightened little faces. As we reached the boys, we were still recovering from the giggling fit.

"You been drinkin' in there?" Steve squinted at me suspiciously as I slid onto the bench next to him. Sandy didn't sit down. Soda looked up at her, wondering why. Straight faced now, she simply held out her hand.

Steve snorted with laughter as Soda put his hand in his pocket and handed over a paper napkin with writing on it. Sandy screwed it up and tossed it towards the nearest trash can. It would have been more impressive if she had any ball skills at all, because it landed short, but the point was made.

Before Soda could say anything, Sandy leaned down and kissed him full on the mouth. He beamed as they broke apart, but she slapped him on the shoulder and said, "Don't take it, next time. And don't give me any of that 'I was only bein' polite' shit, neither." He grabbed her around the middle and pulled her onto their bench, where the tickling turned into kissing.

"Don't you wanna know if _I_ got any numbers when you were gone?" Steve tried to look mysterious.

"Nah," I said lightly. "They were babies. I'm sure they were just distracted by the shiny object." He smirked as Soda looked up, not a hundred per cent sure if I was insulting him or not.

Sandy arranged herself more comfortably on the seat, leaning against Soda as she sipped her drink.

A dark red Fairlane pulled in and Tim climbed out with a couple of his boys. He sent one inside, presumably for drinks, and spent some time chatting with guys on the other side of the lot. There was a deal of laughter.

"What's he driving there, a '61?" Soda craned his neck to see.

"'60. Taillights." Steve said cryptically.

"Did Ponyboy have a nice birthday?" I asked Soda, for something to say, that wasn't about Tim. He wrinkled his nose.

"Yes and no. Kind of tough on him, first one without Mom and Dad." _Shit._ I could have kicked myself.

"Oh, Of course. Sorry."

He smiled. "But he ate his own body weight in birthday cake, so it wasn't all bad. Darry gave him these tuff new running shoes, so he should be in Pony's good books for a while."

"Yeah? That's good. What'd you get him?"

"Some book he wanted...before you ask, some weird name, I forget. There was a movie about it he liked an' he wanted to go over the story again. He's kind of a nerd, huh?" But his voice was warm when he said it. I'd seen the two of them together, I knew he wouldn't ever really do Ponyboy down.

"Steve, did you get him something?" I'd been nagging him to do so for a week or more. Steve rolled his eyes.

"He ain't _my_ kid brother."

I gave him a hard look. He stared back, then made a face at me. "_Yes_. I gave him two packs of smokes and a 'Playboy'."

"Steve, you didn't!"

"What's wrong with that? Talk about the gift that keeps on giving._ Hours of pleasure_..." He made an obscene gesture, meant for Soda's eyes, but plainly visible to me. "The kid keeps complain' he don't wanna be treated like a kid." He justified himself. He didn't do a good job of keeping a straight face and ended up sniggering with Soda. Sandy and I sighed and attempted to ignore them.

I didn't react when a second car pulled up, next to Tim's. Three boys got out. I thought one was the skinny look out. Another one looked familiar too, but I couldn't see him clearly. They spoke to Tim briefly and then headed inside the diner. Tim rounded up the ones that had arrived in his car, but as they were getting back in the Fairlane, he sauntered over to us.

"Thought that was you, Curtis." He nodded at Soda, then Steve. They both nodded back. Tim smiled at me and Sandy. "Ladies." Steve laid his arm casually across my shoulders. Body language seems to feature heavily in boy communication.

"Seen my idiot of a brother over at your place?" Tim asked Soda. Soda said no. Tim shrugged. "He'll keep. Don't tell him I'm looking, if you see him. I favour the element of surprise." His gaze rested on me, for just a second.

"Was that Trey with you?" Sandy piped up, from the safety of Soda's arms. _Oh._ That's who I recognised.

"Yup." Tim's response seemed to drain Sandy of her nerve to talk to him. She concentrated on sipping her drink. I was slightly freaked that Trey had been part of the lookout crew, reporting back here to Tim. I didn't know he ran with the Shepard gang. It was a bit weird to think he'd been waiting on his sister's lover, without knowing it.

"I would invite you boys for a little poker game I'm setting up tonight, but I see you have better things to do." Tim winked and staring walking back to his car. He turned back as if he'd just remembered something. "Don't bother driving down to the river. The fuzz are all over the park there, I hear."

Done. All done. I never wanted to yell so much in all my life. I let out a breath I didn't even realize I was holding.

"Curly's in deep shit," Soda commented, gleefully, once Tim was out of earshot. "Wonder what he did?"

I smiled to myself. I knew Curly had been no more than a convenient reason to talk to us.

I didn't know exactly what Tim had arranged with Adam Murphy, the leader of the River Kings, to have planted in Ricky's car. Nor how they got Ricky there. I just knew that Tim was happy to have Murphy think he'd helped him out with a problem. It tipped their ongoing balance towards the Shepard gang for a little while.

And it freed me from the spectre of Ricky, because he'd know it was Murphy, since it went down on River Kings' turf. And that would be way more important to him than getting back at Steve.

For the first time in weeks, I felt like I could relax.

I slid my arms around Steve and held him tightly, burying my head in his shoulder so I could grin without anyone seeing.

"Was Shepard winking at you?" Steve growled in my ear.

"Me?" I tried to sound indignant. "I believe he referred to me as one of your '_better things to do'_, I figured he was winking at you."

"I heard him say that about us. Who does he fuckin' think he is?" Sandy said indignantly.

"Wanna ask him?" I looked over her shoulder, like Tim was walking back. Sandy jumped and turned around nervously. I laughed at her. I was feeling like we needed to do something, go somewhere. "Come on, let's split. There's no scene here," I stood up, pulling Steve's arm.

"Where to?"

I smiled and reached into his pocket for the key to the Chevy. Before Steve could object, I handed it to Sodapop. "I'm thinking Soda can drop us off at my house an' we let him and Sandy have the car." I could see Soda was definitely on board with this idea.

"What about your sister?" Steve was wary.

"Sarah's out. She won't be back until eleven thirty. _On the dot_." I made a gagging gesture. "I've had enough of doin' things her way. I live there too. C'mon." I opened the rear door. "I've never been in the back...when it was drivin'!" I finished against all their laughter.

There was only a certain amount of distraction necessary, to keep Steve from objecting to Soda's driving style. It was nice though. And it _was_ different in the back, when the car was going. We hopped out a little way down the street from my house, in case Ma happened to hear the doors closing. She'd surprised me that time she'd mentioned seeing Soda and I was ready to piss off Sarah, not to upset Ma.

Steve went quietly upstairs as I said 'hello' loudly to Ma, leaning around the door to the front room. She was half asleep already and waved at me vaguely, from the couch. Sarah would see her to bed if she didn't make it by herself.

I headed up the stairs, to find Steve scowling at the bedroom wall. "Still here then, is he?"

"Live with it, Randle," I said, unbuttoning his shirt and considerably improving the expression on his face. "Paul Newman stays."


	22. Chapter 22

Steve and I both cussed out loud as we pulled up outside Soda's house.

Our cosy Sunday at the lake with Soda and Sandy had apparently turned into a full expedition. After such a good start to the morning, too.

We were getting clever at sneaking Steve in and out of my room. One time, thinking that Sarah was getting up as he was leaving, he knocked on the door and pretended to be arriving. If she'd been a better detective, she could have checked the Chevy, found the hood cold, but maybe she didn't watch as many movies as me.

I couldn't say I was getting used to waking up with him yet, but I was sure getting used to the idea that we were meant to be together all the time.

Now Steve looked at me unhappily. "Well, this is gonna be tight." _Great_. As if it wasn't hot enough out, cramming all of us in the Chevy would make for a very uncomfortable ride to the lake.

I didn't have his problem with Ponyboy and Johnny coming along, but I sure wasn't happy to see Sylvia, chatting with Sandy on the front steps. I still worried that every time I thought Sandy was settled on Soda, Sylvia was in her ear, offering extracurricular fun and games. I hadn't seen her for a couple of weeks, but Sylvia and I would be having another conversation real soon; her two months were up.

So far Sandy had resisted Sylvia's invitations. She seemed to be happier with Soda and he continued to totally dig her.

Soda darted back inside for something he'd forgotten. Then Two-Bit showed up, a towel under one arm, a girl on the other. Steve climbed out, leaning on the car roof and shaking his head.

"Two-Bit, you're gonna have to bring the Plymouth, man."

Two-Bit pulled a face. "Died on me last night. Made that noise again and now she won't start at all."

Steve groaned. "Tell me you put oil in, like I told you to? _Last fuckin' week_." He closed his eyes, as if Two-Bit's mistreatment of his car was physically painful. Then he snapped, "Pony, go ask Soda to ask if he can have the truck today."

"For what?" Darry came out onto the porch, yawning and pulling a t shirt over his head. I noticed both Sylvia and Sandy watching out the corner of their eyes. Two-Bit's date stared openly.

"Goin' swimming. Come with us." Soda reappeared, a towel slung over his shoulder.

Darry shook his head. "I got things to do. And then, I'mma sleep all afternoon, if you clowns are disappearing." He dug in his pocket and tossed his keys at Soda. "Here, take it, little buddy."

"Thanks, man." Soda beamed.

"Anything for some peace." Darry tried to sound stern, but he smiled. "Pony? You get a sunburn like last time an..."

"I know, _you'll skin me_." Ponyboy finished, poking out his tongue when Darry had turned his back. Soda aimed a swipe at Ponyboy's head, which he ducked easily. Johnny jumped into the back of the truck and Ponyboy handed him the cartons of soda they had ready, climbing in after him. Sylvia wasted no time following Sandy into the seats.

That left us with Two-Bit and his date, who he introduced as Rhonda. She was a bottle blond, but it was well done, might not have been obvious to the guys. She seemed okay, a bit ditzy, but then maybe that worked if you were dating Two-Bit. She sure seemed to dig him. As usual, he kept up a stream of improbable stories as we drove out to the lake.

There were enough swimming spots, given the choice of lakes and parks, that we had never run into many people out there. Certainly the Socs didn't need to slum it, when they had their country clubs and even pools in their own yards. But I refused to think about Socs and their fancy stuff, concentrating on whatever kicks we were going to have. Days like this were the closest I came to vacationing and I didn't want to spoil a minute. The countdown to school had ticked away for everyone except me and Soda. Every moment of freedom counted.

We found a great place to park, right by the water's edge, effectively claiming a little wooden dock that must have been put there for fishing, or maybe just for the look of it. We threw a couple of old blankets down in the shade of the truck and the guys began tearing off their shirts, tossing them aside.

Sandy and Sylvia made a big deal out of undressing behind the truck, away from the boys, which was ridiculous given the size of the bikini Sylvia eventually revealed. What was holding her in, I had no clue. Willpower, maybe.

I caught Steve watching as I unbuttoned my shirt, dropping it behind me. At least he was just looking. Two-Bit was actually assisting Rhonda with her buttons, folding her clothes into a neat pile next to his t shirt. Rhonda was tall, but she was stacked. Her bikini was more modest than Sylvia's, but she looked like a model.

Sandy looked just as gorgeous. I paused, feeling the insecurity I'd had since middle school, next to Sandy in a swim suit. She had such a great figure. I'd never considered her top heavy, like Sylvia, just real curvy. But in the suit she had on, she was giving Sylvia a run for her money. They sauntered out onto the dock.

There was a splash as Ponyboy dived into the water, followed immediately by Soda and Johnny. I made a mental note to stay away from their splashing and ducking games.

Sandy and Sylvia had roped Rhonda into sunbathing on the dock and now they were rubbing on oil like they were intending to be served up with mashed potato for Thanksgiving dinner. Two-Bit plunged into the water, drenching them, causing shrieks and yells.

"Are you trying to drive me crazy?" Steve whispered in my ear, sliding up behind me. "You keep stopping. It's like some kind of strip show."

I laughed at him and let my shorts fall, kicking them over to where my shirt lay. My bikini was at least as cute as Rhonda's. In fact I'd seen it in a magazine spread. Or one very like it.

"See. Now we have a problem." Steve stood close enough to let me feel what the problem was, sliding his arms around me.

"_We _have a problem?"I smiled. "Seems to me it's _you_ making an exhibition of yourself."

"Well, you'll just have to stand there all day." He tightened his hold on me, nuzzling my ear. "Hide me and my problem."

"I think, if you keep doing that, it's only gonna make it worse. Based on my previous experience of your _problem_." I wriggled a little, making him grit his teeth.

"Glory, Evie. Let's go for a little walk in those trees over there, I know a cure."

I shook my head. "You swimming in those?" I looked at his shorts, made from old jeans cut off above the knees. Most of the boys were swimming in similar things. There was no Socy club dress code here. Only Johnny kept his t shirt on, I noticed.

Steve nodded.

"Then, I have the answer," I said, pulling him towards the bank.

"Huh?" He'd been investigating the string tie on my bikini top. I'd double knotted it. I ain't stupid.

I pushed him into the water. When he came up spluttering, I smiled sweetly. "How's that? Cold water helping any? With _the problem_?"

He scowled half heartedly. "Cruel, that's what you are, Evie Munroe."

Soda called to him and he swam over to them with long, easy strokes. I pottered about, swimming lazily for a few minutes. Then I headed over to the dock, pulling myself out of the water and borrowing Sandy's towel to dry my face.

Sylvia looked like she was asleep, stretched out flat. But she suddenly said, "Frankie Forrester."

"Ew. No," Sandy said.

"Don't think I know him." Rhonda shrugged.

"Works in the bakery on Sutton," Sylvia said, still without opening her eyes. "Dark hair. Big ears."

"Oh. The tall one? Then, 'no' as well."

I gathered they were comparing opinions on various male specimens. Always a favourite topic of conversation when Sylvia and Sandy were too bored to think of anything else to talk about. Now they had a new voter to canvas.

Sandy complained she'd left the transistor radio in the truck. I said I'd fetch it.

Johnny was pulling out a couple of Pepsis from one of the cartons in the flatbed. He smiled, but he didn't meet my eyes, as usual. Of course, today, looking down didn't really help him. That just made him more flustered. I wrapped my towel around me, to give him some chance of having a conversation.

There were large bruises on his arms, as high as I could see. I wondered about him not taking off his t shirt. I remembered a few comments Steve had made about what Johnny had to put up with at home. Now I found it hard to meet his eyes.

I fiddled with the dial on the transistor, finding a station playing Gospel music before I switched it off. Johnny looked at me curiously. I told him that I knew having to retune it would irritate the hell out of Sandy.

He flashed a delighted grin. "_I do that to Pony_. I tweak the dial, right before I leave. It drives him crazy to have to redo it every morning." I told him I did it to my sister too. Put her albums back in the wrong sleeves, as well. He hadn't thought of that, said he'd try it. We giggled like naughty kids.

Just as Ponyboy came over for his drink, I walked back over to Sandy. They were still talking about boys, I could hear as I approached.

"If I wasn't with Two-Bit, I'd be all over those two." Rhonda said, looking Steve and Soda over as they climbed out further along the bank.

"Hey," Sandy said lazily. "Not my boy, thank you."

"An' I wouldn't let Evie hear ya talking 'bout Steve," Sylvia said, from her prone position. I stood still. "She's been known to clock girls who say the wrong thing."

Rhonda giggled, but stopped suddenly and said, "Are you shitting me?" Neither of them saw me.

"Nope. Don't be fooled 'cause she looks such a cutie. She's not someone you wanna cross." Swear to God, there was admiration in Sylvia's voice. I knew I'd got the better of her, over the cop thing, but I'd figured she hated me for it. Maybe she'd been taken over by an alien life form.

I handed the radio over to Sandy and went back to the car before she discovered what station I'd left her with.

Ponyboy and Johnny were still standing by the end of the truck bed, but Two-Bit and Steve were now sitting on the blankets, smoking. Steve offered me his weed. Damn, if that boy hadn't already combed his hair. I took a drag and handed the cigarette back, sitting down. He pulled me closer, leaving his arm draped over my shoulders. His skin was still cold from the water, as I leaned against him.

Soda sat down, handing around bottles of Pepsi as he cracked them with a church key, one by one. Two-Bit looked at his as if it was an exotic animal, to be approached with caution.

"Live a little, Mathews, you might like it," Soda teased. Without looking around, he said, "Pony, you burning there?"

"No." Ponyboy scowled. But he moved into the shade.

When they'd finished drinking, Ponyboy and Johnny challenged Soda to a race, as they headed back to swim. He declined, but shortly afterwards, when Sandy dropped daintily into the water with the other two girls, he changed his mind and swam out to them.

It was hot enough to be making me feel sleepy. Steve yawned, sliding down to rest his head on my legs. Two-Bit leaned back on his elbows, soaking up the sun. We chatted about nothing much.

A dark sedan pulled up just a little way from where we were parked.

"Here comes trouble," Two-Bit drawled, but in a light tone, not to be taken seriously. None of us had the energy to do much about it, if it had really been trouble. I thought Steve might have fallen asleep, his head was still pillowed on my lap and he hadn't moved for a while.

Tim and Curly Shepard climbed out of the car, already discarding their shoes and shirts. Ponyboy yelled a greeting at Curly, who launched himself towards the shallow water at a run.

Tim walked onto the dock, nodding hello at us in passing. He dove smoothly into the water, disappearing for long seconds, before reappearing further out than I would have guessed possible.

"So cool, he's gonna freeze the fuckin' lake." Two-Bit was sarcastic.

"Jeez. He can really swim." I couldn't help but be impressed, as Tim powered through the water.

"Yeah. He swears his dad threw him in an' kept kicking him away from the edge until he got it."

I pointed to Curly, who was doing a good impression of drowning in the shallows, as Ponyboy hurled armfuls of water at him. "How does that explain _that_?"

Two-Bit shrugged. "Maybe their dad had given up on playin' 'Happy Families', by the time Curly came along."

That would have made Tim awful young when his dad employed the swimming 'lessons', I realized. But since Two-Bit's own father had failed spectacularly at the game in question, I didn't pursue it.

"I am also a very good swimmer," Steve griped, without opening his eyes.

I patted his head. "Yes, you are, baby," I said, in as patronising a tone as I could muster. Two-Bit snorted with laughter and Steve opened his eyes just long enough to scowl at us. As soon as they were closed again, Two-Bit piped up, slyly.

"But she's still watching Shepard."

Steve sat up, trying to look at me and the lake at the same time.

Unfortunately, Tim chose that exact moment to exit the water, shaking his hair as he lifted himself onto the edge of the dock, the water streaming down the muscles of his arms and his chest. He marched over to his car. Although since he rarely seemed to have the same car twice, whether it was actually _his_ was open to interpretation.

"What?" I did my best to keep a straight face under Steve's glare. He lay down again, closing his eyes. This time he reached his arm around me as well.

"Now, Steve," Two-Bit said in a false, cheerful tone. "You can't expect a person to go blind, just because they're goin' steady." I kicked him, which probably hurt my foot more than his leg. He chuckled. "I myself have been admirin' the wonders of the human form all afternoon..."

"Talking 'bout me, again?" Soda arrived at the blanket, grinning as he flicked his hair at us. We were so hot and tired, not one of us did more than wipe off the water with an annoyed brush.

"Hardly." Two-Bit looked pointedly in the direction of the girls, as they bobbed in the water.

"Jeez, I had to leave 'em to it. They're talkin' about make up. _While swimming_." Soda's voice was full of incredulity. He reached for a bottle and pulled a face after glugging the Pepsi. "Ugh. Nice and warm."

I was slightly put out by Two-Bit's comment, given that I was right in front of him. He was sharp, that boy, because he caught my annoyed look.

"Now, Tinkerbelle, I ain't blind to your own personal charms..."

Steve growled.

Two-Bit moved ever so slightly back before continuing. "But, I don't really see you as a chick, y'know." This time _I_ growled. "I mean because, you come as a package really, don'tcha. Like a mutant kind of creature, like a Steve, Evie, Frankenstein thing...A _'Stevie'_. I never thought of that before! That's what I'll call you two now."

"Like fuck, you will," Steve snapped, just as I said, "I don't think so!"

"For real, Two-Bit? You only just thought of that? '_Stevie_'?" Soda asked. "I been calling 'em that in my head for months."

"For Christ's sake!" Steve sat up, banging his fist on the blanket. "Will you clowns shut your traps about fuckin' 'Stevie', or do I got to shut 'em for you?"

Soda and Two-Bit pulled exaggerated 'Ooh, I'm scared' faces.

"Two-Bit?" I said, to change the subject and because I'd been thinking about Rhonda as his date. "Why _do_ you only date blondes?"

Steve laughed and Soda grinned widely.

"Well," Two-Bit began in his story telling voice. "I had this babysitter..."

"_Gloria Delucca_." Tim's voice cut in, as he loomed over us. He motioned to Steve. "Borrow your lighter, man?" Steve handed it over and Tim lit a weed, sitting on the grass opposite me. He winked at me. I pretended not to see, hoped Steve hadn't.

Two-Bit's eyes had gone almost misty. "Ah, yes. Glorious Gloria..." He sighed.

Tim nodded, like he was thinking of a memory of his own.

"And?" My interest was well and truly piqued.

"She was very..._educational_." It wasn't like Two-Bit to struggle for the right vocabulary. Soda gave a dirty chuckle. He obviously knew this story.

"_Informative_, even," Tim added, with a sly smile.

"Possibly..._instructional_..." Two-Bit mused.

"When she was babysitting you?" I wasn't sure if I was more shocked or curious.

"My kid sister, really, not me."

"Yeah, 'cause you were so responsible at thirteen!" Tim scoffed.

"Fourteen. It was_ my birthday _remember?" Two-Bit said pointedly.

"So responsible you banged the babysitter!" Soda burst out laughing.

Two-Bit clicked his teeth. "Give away the ending, why don'tcha?"

"I could kind of see where you were going with the story," I said with a laugh.

He grinned at me. "Let's just say she was a very friendly girl."

"An' everyone knows, Catholic girls give the best..." Tim caught himself, glancing at me and changed what he was about to say to, "..._babysitting_." I raised my eyebrow at him, but he just smirked.

Rhonda was coming up the bank towards us, but only Steve and I were facing her.

"Anyway," Soda said. "That was his _first..._blonde and that's why he shouts '_Glory_' when he..."

Two-Bit shoved him hard so the last word was lost in a grunt of pain. But Tim and Steve took up the story and Soda bounced back to join in, as they chorused, "_Oh, oh, oh_..._Glory_!"

"Hey." Rhonda dropped onto the ground, throwing her arms around Two-Bit from behind, and unknowingly preventing him from belting any of the guys. "Y'all sound just like Two-Bit last night."

His eyes bulged as the guys cracked up, laughing fit to bust.

Tim flicked his spent weed away and yelled for Curly. "We gotta split, places to be..."

"...people to work over..." Two-Bit muttered.

"We're gonna stay 'til later," Soda said to Tim. "Any chance you could give Pony and Johnny a ride home?"

He shrugged. "If they get their asses in gear quick enough." He yelled Curly's name again.

"Let Curly drive, we have an excess of ladies, you could stay. The incomparable Miss Richardson is currently without a dance partner," Two-Bit said so lasciviously, it made 'dance partner' sound positively filthy.

"No, thanks. Been there, done that, still got the penicillin bottle to prove it," Tim said, acidly.

Rhonda's eyes went the size of dinner plates, she couldn't help a little look over her shoulder towards Sylvia, who was just approaching with Sandy. I bit my lip to keep from smiling. None of the guys had any such hang ups, they thought Tim's comment was hilarious.

"I heard that, Shepard," Sylvia snarled. "You wouldn't say that if Dally was here."

Tim looked thoughtful. "I might."

She raised her finger at him and stalked over to the truck, using the side mirror to check her makeup and hair. Sandy cuddled up to Soda, complaining about being cold, which was ridiculous. Two minutes out of the water would sort that out. Or his hands all over her, which was his preferred option.

When the other three boys came over, Ponyboy was resistant to being driven home. "Darry said I could stay out. You said we'd get burgers on the way home," he said stubbornly.

I saw Soda waver, although he looked regretfully at Sandy. Tim refused to wait around for the Curtis boys to discuss it, so the chance disappeared anyway. I wondered what business was so pressing over in Shepard turf.

Steve scowled at Ponyboy. "Can you run along and play somewhere else?" He griped. "Leave the grownups to talk?"

"Don't be like that, Ste...ve." Two-Bit snapped the final 'v' sound back as Steve turned the scowl on him. "Let's play us a little cards, huh?" A deck appeared and we arranged ourselves into a rough circle.

"Strip poker?" Two-Bit asked brightly, resulting in catcalls all round. It was hard to see if Ponyboy was sunburned or blushing. After Two-Bit began shuffling roughly, Sylvia suddenly demanded he give her the deck, and she snatched it from him when he quibbled.

She flicked the cards into a fan and back, then cut them one handed and began to shuffle, moving them between her hands so quickly it was hard to see. I wasn't the only one staring in admiration.

Her eyes swept around the circle. "Ante up, you amateurs," she said with an evil smile.

XXX

So, I owed Sylvia fifty dollars, but everything was cool, because Two-Bit owed me seventy five. If we'd have been playing for real money, I'd have been in profit, if not for the fact that everybody owed Johnny. Johnny had an outstanding poker face, he won every hand that Sylvia didn't.

Steve and Soda were hampered by the fact they weren't wearing anything but shorts and we could all see where they tried to hide cards. Lousy cheats, both of them.

I have no clue why a day doing nothing much of anything should be exhausting, but we were all yawning by the time we made it back to the Curtis house. The guys were falling on the burgers we'd picked up, like they'd been starving for days. Rhonda was explaining some complicated diet to Sylvia. Apparently, it was okay to eat fries as long as they weren't salted. Sounded like bullshit to me.

I ducked into the bathroom. Peeing in the woods wasn't something I was comfortable with and whatever Two-Bit's detailed opinion was, on the quality of the lake water, that hadn't been an option for me either. I checked the mirror too, was pleased to see I didn't look too sunburned.

As I came out, I ran right into Darry in the hallway. I remembered he'd wanted to catch up on some sleep and immediately felt guilty, although it was late now.

"Did we wake you?" I wondered why he was looking at me kind of sideways.

"Nah. Did y'all have a good afternoon?"

"Yeah." I smiled. "You? Get the peace and quiet you wanted?"

He nodded. "Uh, sure."

I grinned as I walked away. Tried to guess whether Soda or Ponyboy would be the first to spot the hickey on Darry's neck.


	23. Chapter 23

**So, I haven't given you day/date headings before, but this is now a very particular week in Tulsa and a lot happens. You know why.**

* * *

**Friday.**

"Hey, Evie."

I stared in frank amazement. Sylvia had apparently waited for my bus to arrive, leaning on the nearest wall. I waited for the couple of other people who got off at my stop to walk away, before I spoke to her. She looked awful, her eyes wild. Her cheek was bearing the mark of a slap, if I was any judge.

"What do you want, Sylvia?"

"Dally knows."

My heart stopped. _About Steve?_ Damn her, we had a deal. Or rather, I had enough held over her to force a deal. Anyway, how would she know that Dallas knew? I scowled at her. "Dallas is in the cooler." She shook her head.

"He got out today. Early. He was mouthin' off at the station when he was leaving. Jack got pissed at him an' he told him...about me." Unbelievably, her lip wobbled. I'd never seen her rattled. Not like this. "He knows about me an' Jack."

_Not Steve. _I breathed again. But, the cop? Shit, no wonder she was freaked. "What'd he say?"

Her hand went to her cheek. _Oh_. She nodded. "He said we're over." I was having a hard time feeling sorry for her. Truth told, I felt sorry for Dallas, even if he had hit her.

"You'll just reel him back in, like you always do." I was scornful.

Sylvia bit her lip. "He was...different, this time. Said it was for good." Yeah, well, finding out you've been two-timed, and with a lousy cop, would be a hell of a welcome home from jail.

"Ain't that what you wanted?" I challenged. "Ain't you leavin' soon with _Jack_?" I put plenty of venom into my words, knowing full well her two month target had overrun.

"Yeah. He's still waiting to hear." She didn't sound so sure of herself as she had that day in her front room.

"Why you here? Why you tellin' me?" I was still as suspicious of her as ever. Sylvia took a deep breath.

"I came to tell ya 'sorry'. I ain't gonna spill about Randle to Dally and not just because of what you said." I stared at her. She shrugged, seeming embarrassed by her statement. "I think you dig okay, Evie. What you did for Randle, getting that guy hauled in, frontin' me and Jack...that took guts. An' you were clever about it. Sandy's right about you."

I waited. Watched her squirm.

"I mean, you ain't the same as her an' me. What you got with Randle, that's worth you fighting for. I see that now." _Holy cow, she was being serious._ "I mean it. I'm sorry."

I was actually lost for words. Sylvia smiled bitterly. "Guess you don't believe me. No sweat." She turned to walk away.

"No. That's not..." I stopped, not sure what I was going to say. Sylvia looked back at me.

"I'll see ya around, huh?"

I nodded. "Yeah. See ya around, Sylvia."

XXX

**Saturday.**

Sandy asked to come over to my house to get ready. It was almost like the old days. Like the night of the school dance back in March. Except, this time, I knew full well who was picking us up and I was real happy about it.

Tonight, we had the delights of high school football to look forward to. Which was to say, watching the guys razzing the jocks and generally having a high old time with whatever alcohol we smuggled into the game.

I poured the vodka, Sandy leafed through my magazines. We talked briefly about Sylvia. Word was out about Dallas dumping her. Sandy thought rumors about the frat parties must have got to him, although she didn't seem worried for herself. She still seemed to be in the dark about Jack the cop. I almost admired Sylvia for her ability to keep a secret. Almost.

Between us we had enough dirt on each other to fill the fucking Grand Canyon. Maybe she was wrong when she said that she and I were different. That was an unsettling thought.

Sandy and I had drunk a fair amount of vodka by the time the boys turned up. Kind of the only way we could enjoy the early part of the evening. The football sure didn't do it for us.

Steve pulled back slightly as I kissed him hello. I looked at him carefully.

"Baby, what happened to your nose?"

He pushed my hand away. "Nothin'. Just some fuckin' Socs we had to run off, they jumped Pony last night." He turned the engine over and we roared away.

"Assholes pulled a knife on him," Soda added sourly. "Cut him a little."

"They _what_? Ponyboy okay?" I was spitting mad. "Those lousy bastards! He know 'em?"

Soda shook his head. "Same old, same old. They'll get theirs sometime soon, they keep comin' round our turf..."

"Is that why Ponyboy's not comin' to the game?"

Steve winced at me, like I should have known better. I pulled a face back, it wasn't like we'd be making out right there. We could have dropped the boys home after the game. But Steve shook his head. "Nah, he an' Johnny are going to the movies with Dally."

I stayed quiet then. No way I wanted to address the subject of Dallas and Sylvia.

I can't honestly remember who the visiting team were, nor if we won. It's possible we left before the end of the game. I remember it was the night Two-Bit introduced us to a new blonde, a real pretty girl called Kathy. Her brother was some big name in the River Kings, but that didn't seem to rattle Two-Bit. I liked her, she was smart. She seemed like a match for his wisecracking.

After we'd dropped Sandy and Soda home, we headed to my place.

XXX

**Sunday. **

The banging on the door became part of my dream. Weird how that happens, like how you think you're dreaming about a fire truck, but it's really your alarm clock going off. Anyway, there was a jackhammer going in my dream until Steve shook me awake.

"Evie. Babe, wake up." He kept his voice reasonably low. Force of habit, I guess, because there was plenty of noise downstairs already.

I sat up, my brain a little foggy from not much sleep and a fair amount of vodka the previous evening. "What's goin' on?" I squinted at my clock and saw that it was almost four in the morning.

Steve was already tugging on his jeans. "It sounds like Soda," he said. And it did. I also heard Sarah, who was obviously objecting strongly to having been woken in the middle of the night.

I grabbed my robe and pulled it on, following Steve as he ran down the stairs, hearing Soda asking for Steve.

"You don't get it, I gotta see him!" He wasn't shouting, but he sounded desperate.

"An' I'm telling you, he ain't here!" Sarah's statement of absolute certainty dissolved in front of the fact of Steve appearing, bare-chested and with his jeans half undone.

Recovering quickly, Sarah was uncharacteristically vehement in her swearing as she surveyed us. I caught sight of myself in the mirror on the wall opposite and discreetly tried to make my hair less wild.

"Soda, man, what gives?" Steve was solely concerned with his friend, ignoring Sarah and her griping.

Soda was wild eyed, frantic and gabbling about Ponyboy so fast we couldn't understand him. I heard the words 'cops', 'Johnny', 'the park'. Something bad had happened, something real bad.

"Soda?" I grabbed his hands, tried to make him focus. "Soda, you gotta slow down. What's happened to Ponyboy?"

He took a couple of gulps of air, blinking at me. Then he slumped against the doorframe, as if he'd been sucker punched. And he told us what had happened.

The story was barely out of his mouth when Steve was racing back upstairs for his shirt and shoes. I stared at Soda. Sarah had her hand over her mouth.

I wanted to say that someone had got it wrong. That it was so far beyond belief, it was a joke, one of Two-Bit's improbable stories. No way Ponyboy and Johnny would kill...could kill...anyone. I wanted to laugh it off. But the way Soda was shaking as he breathed let me know it was horribly, horribly real.

I was thinking about all the name calling from the Socs, all the needling. About Steve with his broken bottle, Johnny being jumped so bad. I had a vivid memory of Ponyboy at the Tasty Freeze, when Steve fought Ricky. Ponyboy standing next to Two-Bit, just a kid, but ready to stand up for his friend. And then he was jumped yesterday, for doing nothing more than coming home from the movies. It all made a twisted, horrible kind of sense that it would end up here.

I met Steve's eyes as he flew back down the stairs. He looked scared. I thought about all the times he'd complained, called Ponyboy an annoying kid, said he didn't want him around. Now he looked almost as sick as Soda. And I suddenly realized that all his talk was just that. I'd always known he thought of Soda like a brother, now I saw his feelings extended to Ponyboy. I wondered if he even knew that himself. I put my arms around him.

He held onto me briefly, but then he was turning towards the door and Soda. "We gotta find 'em before the cops."

"Weren't they out with Dallas last night?" I hated to put the blame on anyone, but...

Soda nodded "Yeah. But not all night. They hung with Two-Bit for a while, until he went off. Darry called him. He's looking down by the school." He ran his hand through his hair, distractedly.

Steve put his arm around Soda's shoulders. "We'll find 'em, man. We'll find 'em."

XXX

"Who the hell have you been hanging around with?" It had taken Sarah a little while to absorb what Soda had told us, but she was in full flow now. "Hoods and killers?"

"Don't be so dramatic. You're talking 'bout Darry's littlest brother." I gripped my coffee cup, fighting the urge to throw it at her. "He's just a kid. And Johnny..." I couldn't really describe Johnny as a kid, he seemed too world weary, but he was no cold blooded murderer. "It'll have been the fuckin' Socs who jumped _them_, I can tell you that. You have no clue..." I tossed the coffee and the mug in the sink.

"_Apparently not_." Her tone was acidic, her look pointed.

"Oh, Christ. This is about Steve being here now? Fuck off, Sarah, I got more important things to worry about." I elbowed past her, intending to get dressed. I needed to be ready, when Steve came back.

She slapped me. Not that hard, to be honest, but we hadn't gotten into anything for years. Not since hair pulling seemed like a good way to solve disputes over dolls. She burst into tears.

I think I was more shocked by that.

"I'm sorry," I said, not quite sure if I was apologizing for telling her to fuck off, or for Steve staying over, or for making her cry. Not quite sure why she was crying, to be honest.

Sarah sat at the kitchen table, her head in her hands. I hovered.

"_Somebody died_. What if you'd been out with them? What if it happened when you'd been out with them, Evie?"

_Oh._ Not any of the things I was considering then. I was unnerved by that. I sat down too, next to her.

"So...maybe we could see my being here with Steve as a good thing, then?" It was a long shot.

Her look told me no. She wiped her eyes, took a deep breath.

"It ain't that I don't like Steve. I just think that you're gettin' in too deep. I worry you're goin' to be hurt somehow."

It was the middle of the night. We were both tired. We'd heard something shocking and I, at least, was now fearful for two kids I considered friends. But I could put her mind at rest on one thing at least. I held her hand. It didn't feel as sappy as it might have done.

"Sarah, _I love him_. An' he loves me." I hoped she could see that this was fact. This was an absolute truth in my life. "Nothing's going to change that."

XXX

Steve came by late on Sunday afternoon. He and Soda had driven around until neither of them could see straight. They'd crashed at Soda's for a few hours, before heading back out. I was glad for that, figuring that wrapping the Chevy around a telephone pole because he fell asleep was not what would help.

Not that anything was helping. Between the guys and the cops, there was nowhere on the North side that hadn't been combed. Ponyboy and Johnny were gone.

"Darry and Soda are goin' out of their minds." Steve nursed a coffee at our kitchen table. Sarah had poured it for him. I wasn't sure she was happy, but she seemed to accept that this wasn't the time to yell at us. "I'mma skip class tomorrow, keep lookin', because they can't afford not to go to work."

"How will that help?" Sarah disapproved. "You should be in school."

"You're not gonna stumble across them. I don't think they want to be found. They might not even be in Tulsa no more," I said quietly. For a second I thought Steve was going to cry, his eyes looked awful shiny.

He stood up. "I should get back to Soda's," he said.

Sarah ducked out of the kitchen, so we could say goodbye. I held Steve tight, put everything I was feeling into kissing him, so he would know.

XXX

**Tuesday.**

"Hey, you asleep, or what?" Steve poked me in the ribs. I looked at him, uncomprehending.

I smiled weakly and I pulled his arm around my shoulders more tightly, cuddling into him. "I'm just tired," I lied. I could have said I was thinking about Ponyboy and Johnny but what kind of heartless bitch would that have made me? My mind was on something else entirely.

I'd persuaded Steve to leave Soda and Darry alone for the evening. Not that they would rest. But I thought Steve needed to relax, he was getting more and more tightly wound with every day that the two boys were missing. Soda had been to see Dallas. Like everyone else, including the cops, he believed that Dallas knew more than he was letting on. Steve was really angry about it.

He agreed to go out reluctantly. But then he'd tried, for my benefit, I knew, to pull himself out of the funk he was in.

"I hear the lake's real pretty at this time of night," he'd said with a smile. My heart squeezed at this old joke of ours. I wanted to be back then, when he'd said it for the first time. Back before all the lying. So I smiled at him and we went to the lake.

And it just made me think about swimming.

We'd been swimming every weekend in August. _Every_ weekend. I'd had to sit one out. Sandy hadn't. Why hadn't I noticed? My mind went round and round.

_I'd been home for only about twenty minutes on Monday, when I heard the back door bang. It could have been Sarah, home early, so I was surprised to hear footsteps on the stairs. I put down my hairbrush._

Sandy came in, leaning back on the door as she shut it. Whatever greeting I'd been going to give her, died on my lips. She was pale, her lip trembling.

"What? Is there news?"

She looked through me.

"Sandy? Did you hear from Soda? What's happened?"

Sandy laughed. A horrible thin sound. "No. I haven't talked to Soda." She pushed herself off the door. "I'm pregnant. That's what's happened."

Holy fuck. I thought I must have misheard her. She ran her fingers along the edge of my dresser, like she was afraid she had to hold on to something, like she was anchoring herself to the real world.

"You're what?" I sat on the bed.

She just looked at me.

"Maybe you're just late, it happens..."

"I saw the doctor."

She must have been thinking it a while then. But Saturday...when we were getting our kicks at the game...when she was shrieking with laughter, same as me, at what the boys were getting into...or last week? What did we even do last week? I wrenched my mind back to her, standing in front of me. Opened my mouth to say something. Closed it again.

"Yeah," Sandy said, acknowledging that it was beyond comment.

"Did you sleep with...is it...?" Not that it would be good. It would never be _good_ but maybe it would be _okay_, because he was a good guy, he wouldn't dump her, _please God, let it be..._

"No. It ain't Soda's."

"Aw, shit, Sandy. Holy shit."

"So, I called Charles from a payphone across the road from the doctor's office." Her voice was eerily calm, like she was telling me what homework she had. "He ain't interested..."

"But it _is_ his?" She didn't respond, didn't even seem to have heard me. I snapped out her name and she looked at me. "It is Charles's?" Jesus, how long ago was that? My mind was trying to do the calculation.

"Oh. Yeah. Do you remember when Sylvia told us about her cousin, who went to that doctor in Oklahoma City? How much do you think that was?"

"More than you've got." And dangerous. She wasn't thinking straight. "What's Charles gonna do about it?" I couldn't believe she was just going to let him slide out of it. "It's his mess too."

"He said family was real important to him." She was back to tracing the edge of the wood on the dresser, looking at her fingers sliding back and forth. "He said family meant more than anything else in this world."

"When? When did he say that, Sandy?" Because it didn't make sense that it was during the payphone conversation.

"At the party. And when I skipped school to see him." _What the fuck? _

Sandy looked at me in surprise, I must have made a noise. "I didn't sleep with him at the first party. I told you that. But later, there were a few afternoons, just him and me...it was like it was _our_ house, y'know."

And in this make believe world where she was the wife of a rich South-side asshole in her rich South-side mansion, he told her what? That _family_ was important to him? What did she interpret that as? I started feeling sick.

I didn't want to ask. Mainly because I thought I knew the answer.

"Sandy, did you do this...on purpose?"

She swallowed. "I just thought..."

"Did you?"

"He kept sayin' _family_ was important to him, _family_ was the most important thing of all. I just thought if I...if we..." She trailed off.

Oh, God. How could she have been so stupid?

"He meant that his family was better'n yours. Than us. Than the whole fuckin' North side," I spat. "He meant _that_, didn't he? That you were his dirty little secret, not that he wanted a family with you."

She looked so fragile, like she would blow away in the wind. I still couldn't stop myself.

"You fuckin' idiot, Sandy. _Soda_ wanted a family with you. _Soda_ wanted to be with you forever. Why would you throw that away for a chance at some fuckin' silver spoon asshole with a big house and a fancy car?" I was crying more than her by now.

"_I wanted_ a big house an' a fancy car." She sounded spoiled and...forlorn.

"And what have you got? Jesus fuckin' Christ, Sandy." I stood up and wrapped my arms around her and we sobbed together. "What have you got?"

'Boys like that', Sarah had said to me, thinking that greasy hoods were the kind of boy to abandon their girls. And, what d'you know, South-side Socs were no different.

I held Sandy until she stopped sobbing.

She surprised me. She said she was going to tell Soda she was pregnant and walk away.

I was proud of her.

Until she pointed out that she was too far along to fool him into thinking it was his, even if she went with him now. I hadn't even considered that as one of her options and I was kind of disgusted that she had.

She begged me not to tell Steve yet. Promised me she'd tell Soda, and soon. Told me she hadn't even told Sylvia, that she trusted me above everyone. Made me swear to keep the sordid, dirty details quiet. Again.

She called me Tuesday evening, when I got in from work. Told me her mom had found out. I ran right over to her house, because she was cut off mid sentence. I didn't get to see her. Although I made it home in time for Steve to pick me up, my mind was still whirling.

_Sandy never knew she made me guilty, partly because I wished I'd talked her out of going with Sylvia in the first place. But mostly because, even as she was crying, even as I told her stupidly it would be okay, the only thing that was going through the back of my mind was, 'Thank God it's not me.'_

And that was still running around in my brain, on the back seat of the Chevy on Tuesday night, as Steve held me and kissed me and I told him I loved him.

"Me too, babe," he replied, like always. God, I could have done with hearing him say it properly. Because I wanted something in the world to be right, something in the world to make sense. I spoke to him quietly as things got hot and heavy, and he looked at me strangely.

"Evie, babe, you don't need to remind me." Steve fished for his wallet, retrieved one of the Trojans he kept there."Ain't we always been careful?" He was kissing me again before I could answer. What would I have said anyway?


	24. Chapter 24

**For those of you who experience a little déjà vu, the opening part of this chapter is Evie's POV of my one-shot 'Hearing the Truth'. ****Sorry about that, but that's where we've been heading...****(If you haven't read it, it will tell you what's going on in Steve's head.) **

* * *

**Wednesday.**

I was so buzzed to come out into the service alley and see Steve waiting. I hadn't had a chance to tell him I was going to work overtime so it was a real nice surprise that he was there to pick me up. I remembered the first time he'd done it, when we were just getting together and that made me smile.

"_I was passin' by," he said, real casual. __And he'd looked so cute, leaning on the car in his work shirt. And he'd waited there for me. Steve Randle, tuff as hell, and there to pick me up._

I ran over to hug him hello. He was like a statue, didn't hug me back, didn't speak to me, something was obviously wrong.

A dreadful, frightening thought hit me. I could hardly bear to ask.

"Steve? What's the matter?...Oh, God, did something happen with Soda's little brother?"

All kinds of awful things were going through my mind, all the things that could have happened to Ponyboy and Johnny. But before my imagination spiralled completely out of control, Steve spoke.

"Nah, they ain't heard nothin'."

Now I didn't know what to think. He'd been strung out since Ponyboy disappeared, but this icy calm was something else.

"You seen Sandy today?" Steve's voice was hard as stone. His face was very still.

_Oh, shit. She told Soda. Poor Soda. _I bit my lip.

"Florida, huh?"

"What did Soda tell ya?" I asked quietly, because I had no way of knowing what exactly Sandy might have said, when she confessed. And I was still selfish enough to want to know if she'd told my part in it all.

"How 'bout you tell me what _you_ know, an' I'll let ya know when it sounds different?" Steve sounded bitter, nasty. He was obviously mighty pissed with her.

I knew he would defend Soda past any point of reason. He would take up for him like a brother. I'd admired him for that before, it was one of the things that made him special. But equally, Sandy was my friend and I had a sense of loyalty to her, in the same way. He would recognize that.

I wondered how bad Soda had taken it. I really wished that Sandy would have spared him, on top of the worry about Ponyboy. I guessed her mom finding out about the doctor's appointment had rushed everything, in her panic to ship out Sandy and her shame.

Like nothing else, I wanted to tell Steve all of it. But I couldn't bring myself to. Sandy and I had been friends since kindergarten. She'd trusted me. She'd begged me not to give out the details. And it was the tip of the iceberg, reagrding what I'd been keeping from him.

So I stupidly tried to claim I didn't know anything, but Steve snapped at me, jumping across what I was saying.

"Bullshit! Don't tell me you didn't know, Evie. You two were tight, no way you didn't know."

I jumped when he snarled. Of course it made it worse that he was partly right. But I'd only _just_ found out. If I could make Steve see I was caught in the middle, he would understand. So I told him that I'd only found out myself this week.

"She told me Monday, when she found out from the doctor. That's all. Then her mom figured it out an' all Hell broke loose, an' they're packin' her off to Florida..."

"Monday was two days ago. We went out last night." His tone was so cold.

I didn't understand why he was hacked about that. When we were out last night, it was all real. It was nothing but real between us. This was horrible for Sandy and for Soda, but it wasn't to do with how things were for me and Steve. We were different.

Perhaps it was that I'd known before Soda? If that was the problem, I could explain, that Sandy had asked me not to tell, until she'd had a chance to confess.

"I couldn't say anythin', baby, how could I? She still hadda tell Soda, I couldn't..."

He yelled, didn't let me finish, anger flaring in his eyes. "She had to tell _Soda_? Ain't nothin' to do with him, is what I hear. How about, she had to tell whichever little prick she's been running around with?"

So she hadn't told Soda all the details. I was so ashamed for Sandy and so angry at myself, for not stopping her from going to that first party.

I wanted to hug him, but Steve walked away from me.

"How long was she two-timing him?" He was shaking with fury now, firing questions at me."Who was it?"

"I don't..." I tried to explain.

"Don't fuckin' lie to me!" he yelled and I jumped backwards, catching my breath. Couldn't stop myself flinching.

_Oh, God. It's not Sandy he's pissed at, it's me._

For a second, just a second, I'd seen something in Steve that chilled my blood. I'd seen that look in his eyes before, when he got mad, before a fight, but never directed at me. Not ever at me. God help me, he looked like...Ricky, in that moment. My heart was pounding. I felt sick to my stomach.

His next words made me shiver."I swear to God, Evie, if you don't tell me the truth..."

_I saw the two of us clearly on the steps outside Buck's. _"_I don't like secrets. I don't like that it feels like you're keeping something from me."_

Oh, shit. I tried to remember that was also when he'd sworn he would never hurt me. I wanted to believe that. To hold onto that. But my reaction had come from deep in my gut, it wasn't rational, it wasn't something I could control.

"I don't know who it was. _I don't know!_" I heard myself saying. I sounded desperate and I was. "Baby." I tried to reach out to him. If I could hold him, show him how much I loved him, he would know this wasn't about us. "I'm sorry she did that to Soda, but it ain't gotta come between us, does it?" _Because we were different, he knew that, he knew how good we were together, it wasn't the same. _

But he looked at me like he hated me. Really hated me. _Oh, no. No._

"Steve...baby, I love you."

He had to remember that we had something special. _Me too, babe. _I willed him to say it, heard his voice in my mind. Saw him looking up at my window, that night, when he'd first said it. _"Evie. What you said. Me too." Oh, please, please..._

His face was completely calm now. That was more frightening than when he'd yelled. Because I could read in his eyes what he was going to do next.

"Steve. _Please_. Listen to me." I had to make him understand. _Don't, baby, don't do this, don't._

He walked away from me, back to the car. _Don't._

"We're done."

I felt my heart break. _Oh, God. He means it. He really means it. _

I called out to him. He ignored me. I told him I loved him, one more time. As I said it, I knew he wasn't hearing me. He might have heard the words but he wasn't hearing _me_.

_He looked like he hated me. _

He turned over the engine. He drove away.

XXX

If I been capable of rational thought, I'd have turned around and walked back to Marian. But I wasn't thinking at all, I was just hurting. I felt like I should been leaving bloody footprints behind me. Like every time I breathed out, the air should have been red mist. How was it possible that I hurt this much without my body actually having something to show for it?

_He looked like he hated me._

I walked and I walked. Some part of me was equipped with homing sense because apparently I was at least going in the right direction. I was probably passed by several buses that I could have caught.

I saw her, sitting on a low wall, at the edge of a small lot with a rundown grocery store and a boarded up unit, wrapped bottle in hand. I ignored her. I was almost home. When she called my name I kept right on walking. But Sylvia ran after me.

"What the hell happened to you?"

_He looked like he hated me._

Something snapped and I pushed her, hard. "You!" I screamed. "_You_ fuckin' happened. You and your fuckin' parties and Sandy and her fuckin' lies and I hate you, I hate you both!" Sylvia let me push her again, but I'd lost my energy. I couldn't even cry any more.

"What'd he do?" she asked, in a tone that sounded almost as defeated as I felt. I didn't even feel surprised that she assumed it was to do with Steve. Wasn't everything in my life to do with Steve?

I thought it might make me vomit to say it, but I dredged up the words and told her he'd ended it.

"_Why?"_ She seemed genuinely perplexed, but what did I know about gauging people any more?

"Because I knew about Sandy, running around on Soda."

"_For that?_ He's so in love with Soda, he picked him over you?"

"Shut your fuckin' trap. You don't know him."

"An' he don't know you. Holy Christ, Evie, if he knew what you did to keep me an' Dally off his back, what you did to fix that guy and good...He don't fuckin' deserve you, the sap."

"Shut up." I barely had the energy to reply.

Sylvia shook her head. "Ain't one of the fuckers deserves us." I realized she was half crocked. I wondered why she'd been sitting there, drinking on her own. I decided to fix part of that. I snatched the bottle from her hand and took a long swig.

I coughed. I'd been expecting vodka, but under the paper bag was a bottle of whiskey.

"I tried to see Sandy," Sylvia said with a sigh.

"Me too. Her step dad wouldn't let me in." It seemed like a long time ago now. I told her how Sandy's mom might have let me in, but her stepdad called me a cheap slut and barred the way.

"Ha. I got the same welcome. Although I believe I was a 'Godless whore'," Sylvia scoffed, taking the bottle back. "I'm thinkin' that trumps 'cheap slut'." She let out a peal of laughter. It wasn't a happy sound and she shut up abruptly. "Poor little bitch, gonna have that in her ear, all the way to fuckin' Florida," Sylvia said quietly.

"Shit, Sylvia. Why'd you take her to those parties? Why'd ya let her do that?"

"I never held a gun to her head. She asked to come with me."

As much as I wanted to blame Sylvia, I suspected that was true. Sandy had always wanted more out of life. More excitement, more stuff, more than we ever had.

"She must've been real unlucky. Those college boys usually know what they're doin'."

_Oh_. She didn't know that Sandy had been playing a far more dangerous gamble. I kept quiet.

We'd walked half a block or more without noticing. There was a junk shop, with crappy furniture piled on the sidewalk. Sylvia and I sat on a broken down couch that was pushed against the side wall of the building.

I took another swig of her booze.

"So. We gotta work out a plan of attack. Get Randle back for you." She was almost upbeat.

I shook my head.

"I promise you, it can be done. He's just a guy, they're too damn predictable."

"Is that right? How predictable was _Jack?_ 'Cause I seem to remember you saying he'd be taking you away by now." I twisted the words, knowing they'd hurt. Why shouldn't everyone hurt like me?

Sylvia smiled wryly. "D'ya wanna know something funny? I actually believed that when I told you." Her beautiful face lost its mask for a second, looked young and vulnerable under all the makeup.

"And now?"

She didn't answer me, which was answer enough.

We drank some more.

"Randle'll come round. He ain't that much of an idiot," Sylvia commented. I closed my eyes briefly because I wanted that to be true. _But he looked like he hated me._

"Bullshit. That boy just needs to be reminded what he's thrown away."

I didn't realize I'd spoken out loud. I shook my head again.

"He ain't like Dallas."

"Evie, darlin', they're _all_ like that. An' we all keep letting 'em be."

"I ain't the same as you."

"You keep tellin' yourself that. As often as you like."

I stood up. I'd had enough. I started walking again.

XXX

It took me a moment to work out what was wrong. I dumped my purse on the kitchen table, listening. Too quiet. No TV. What the hell?

"Ma?" I was worried. As I went into the front room, Sarah sprang up. The TV was on, but the sound was off, just the picture flickering in the background. Almost as much of a shock as if it was actually switched off. Ma smiled at me. _What the fucking hell?_

Sarah danced across the room, waving her hand under my nose.

"I thought you'd never get back. Look, look! Tony asked me! We're engaged! His uncle's opening another store and Tony's goin' to be the manager and...Evie? Are you crying?"

She stood still, her finger with the ring on it still held out in front of her.

"Evie? What's the matter?"

**The End.**

* * *

**I can't tell you how happy all your views, reviews, follows and favorites have made me. Thank you everyone. I really mean it.**

**If anyone has an overview of the story as a whole, please PM. I'd love to know if it had dips in interest or continuity, or what your favorite parts are, looking back. Anything I missed, that you wanted to see? **

**Because...**

**Although this was always intended to be the end, I find I'm not finished with Evie. Anyone interested in a sequel?**


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